


Ah Man, Not Again

by Robosnake, Vhutch88 (Robosnake)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Artsy reader, Grad Student Reader, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader is They/Them with female parts, Reader is a teacher, You have a cat, monster racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robosnake/pseuds/Robosnake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robosnake/pseuds/Vhutch88
Summary: Two months after The Quarantine ended, monsters surfaced. It is a year later and now they have all of the same rights as humans, but are still mostly congregated in Ebott.You are in your final year as an art graduate student at Ebott University and just trying to get your degree. You're a no-nonsense demisexual who has all of their focus on getting that degree, but when a couple of boneheads waltz into your life, you find it harder and harder to distance yourself. You're beginning to think... that it might not be a bad thing?Another story in which Classic can't help but touch the science and it ends as expected.
Relationships: Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 39
Kudos: 204





	1. You Really Don't Get Paid Enough to Deal With This

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is baby's first fanfic, so I hope everything turns out well. I've got lots of free time with The Quarantine going on so I decided to make a fic about my favorite bone-boys. First chapter is exposition-heavy, but we get a brief glimpse of some bois.

“Fuck,” you whisper emphatically, running a shaking hand through your messy bangs to brush the sweat out of your eyes. You're unbelievably thankful that you had the foresight to cut your hair short over the summer as it seems to be paying off in droves now. Moisture already soaks through the majority of your thin cotton clothes, sticking the sheer fabric to your body as you ruefully think, once again, that you're definitely not getting paid enough for this.

It’s open studio at Ebott U., a time when visitors from all over town come pouring onto campus and through the art buildings to get a glimpse at what everyone has been working on over the course of the semester. It's also a time for the best and brightest of the students to showcase their abilities in their natural environments, which is why you are currently suffering the hellscape that is the hot shop. 

Your best friend and colleague Emma is in the second year of earning her MFA in glass, which means that now is the perfect time to reach prospective clients and future employers. Since glassblowing is best accomplished with a gaffer AND an assistant, she practically begged you to be there for her. Now, this wouldn’t be a problem in and of itself; however, she was the third person to ask. Since you have a hard time saying no to people, you decided to just suck it up and accept. Besides, the extra money from assisting would be really helpful paying your bills. 

It's late October in Ebott and the weather has begun its seasonal nosedive, so you take the opportunity of a quick break in the routine to crack open the bay doors. The resulting breeze is enough to send a pleasant shiver down your spine. Assisting in the glassblowing hot shop has been both a blessing and a curse: the material is unbelievably fun to work with and the pay for assisting is good, but the heat is absolutely killer. Luckily, most of the time you get the opportunity to make one or two things for yourself. While you aren't a major glass blower, you can manage a few things here and there and have made more than your fair share of ornaments as Christmas gifts. 

"Hey!" Em calls your name over the blasting tunes, a necessity during the long hours, and you hurry back to the bench to provide air. The routine goes back and forth like this a lot: Em heats the glass and shapes it while you blow, then you sit in your thoughts while she works on it more. Your gaze wanders just to the side, where through a thick pane of glass you can see a flood of onlookers admires the demonstration. The mix of monsters and humans still jolts you sometimes, but you're overwhelmingly pleased that they're co-existing so well. 

Monsters came to the surface just two months after the end of The Great Quarantine. Some suspect that the drastic reduction in human activity for an extended period of time may have somehow weakened the strength of the barrier, but its all supposition. The point is, monsters came up, and they were some of the nicest people you’ve ever met. In the wake of such a crisis though, this didn’t seem to matter. Much of the country was still struggling to get back on its feet so the monsters were immediately placed under a lockdown that lasted almost 4 months. It was all over the news, broadcast over any station that was worth its merit, that the temporary camps were starting to deteriorate in quality. Still, the government refused to take action. 

It took a change in leadership and large groups rallying up in protest for the government to finally give them any recognition. They were given a settlement and allowed to begin applications for citizenship. It has been 8 months since then and monsters finally have all of the same rights as humans. Sure racism is still high, but the Monster Magical Self-Defense (MMSD) act, which allows monsters under extreme duress to use magic to defend themselves and others, put a quick stop to that. Now, physical altercations are extremely rare and verbal ones are mostly passive-aggressive. 

You're still not entirely sure what the issue is; even looking past their instinctively kind nature, most monsters are well over your height (which, at a paltry 5'4" isn't saying much) but even you know better than to pick on someone that's larger than you. Besides, magic is literally the coolest thing there is and who wouldn’t want to learn more about it?

"Could you warm the jacks for me?" Em asks, catching your attention by nudging them towards you. You take them quickly, approaching the door to the glory hole and resting them on top. Once they begin to steam, you maneuver around her and place them on the bench, returning to the back side. As an assistant, your job is to follow Em's directions and give her everything she needs. It's usually simple stuff, such as blowing, bringing bits of glass for attachment, or puntying up, but you often find yourself distracted during the longer heat cycles. Honestly, keeping your attention span on track was never one of your strong suits anyways, so this job eases the worries of messing up. 

Your gaze wanders to the glass again and you catch sight of a white spherical shape that catches the hall lighting, bobbing along through the crowds. There's a smidge of red that you see just below the white through the people, but its too far to make out any details. THUMP. You jump slightly, a loud thump on the glass drawing your eyes. Near the front of the crowd, a bunny child has smooshed their face into the glass, forming the perfect imitation of shock as their eyes gleam in wonder. You snort and turn into your shoulder, covering your giggles with a cough. When you look back, the white bobbing thing is gone. "Huh" you mutter to no- one in particular. 

"Blow for me" Em calls again, pulling you from your reverie as she rolls the pipe along the bench with her jacks poised just above the neck. You nod and puff gently, following the pipe along its back-and-forth route as Em knocks in the jackline. She call you off and grabs the pipe, swinging the piece into the gloryhole and spinning slowly. Rubbing at your eyes, you yawn and letting out a soft groan. "You look like you're about to drop. How long have you been on today?" Emma asks, her head tilted away from the piece to examine your reaction. You pause a moment, recalling your morning. Got up at 7 am to feed Poppy breakfast, spent 20 minutes making your own while she wove in between your legs purring, ate, packed up a lunch to go, then jogged in at around 9. You glance at the clock on the far wall and grimace. 

"Er... 9.... no, 10 hours?" your say, voice trailing off at the end when you wince. She balks at your works, momentarily forgetting to turn the pipe as she shouts your name. 

"What the hell?? Go home! Or at least go take a break if you refuse to leave" She adds on, seeing you prepared to make a rebuttal. She pulls the piece out and slides back into the bench, shaking her head. "Honestly.." She trails off, muttering something. 

"But Em" you whine, tilting your head back. "If I go out there, everyone is going to have questions and then I'm going to have to talk to those people. You know I hate answering questions." You move back into position again without being asked as Em picks up her tools. 

"Blow. And, you know ____, I don’t really care. You're no use if you're dead on your feet. Besides…" Her eyes trail to the clock. "My slot is almost up. I can handle thirty minutes without you. Just go grab Joey on your way out. We can talk about your abysmal self-care routine at a later date." Nodding, reluctantly stand and brush off your pants. "And just so you know…" Your head snaps back over to Em. "I really appreciate you doing this for me even though you're clearly exhausted." You flush in embarrassment but nod, a smile pulling at your lips. 

"Hey, what're friends for?" You wave shortly before turning. "Ok…" You grumble, squaring your shoulders and taking a deep breath. "Just gotta make it to the lockers…" Pushing the doors to the main building open greets you with a blast of blessed air-conditioning. Your shoulders relax, if only fractionally, as you duck your head and weave through the crowd. 

The lockers are located down the hall, nestled between the gallery area and the studio spaces for undergraduate students. You slip off to the side down the lesser-used hallway and pause by the desk where a sandy blonde haired boy sits, carving wax into an intricately patterned sphere. "Hey, Joey. Would you be able to assist Em for the last thirty of her slot? She kinda kicked me out…" Joey's head jumps up, but he relaxes upon seeing you. His eyes scan your face before he grins wryly and nods. 

"Yeah man, lemme just set this down. You know where the granola bars are if you need one." You say your thanks and wave before dipping out of the space and back over to the lockers. The noise is loudest here, as the locker wall is joined with the gallery. As you pull out your backpack, you hear a faint 'Look Brother, It's Me! Nyeh heh heh..' trail over the wall that makes you pause and smile. 'Cute' you muse as you shut the locker, shoulder the bag, and poke your head around the corner, curiosity getting the best of you. 

The gallery is a 40ft square room that consists of a series of false walls installed in a maze-like pattern to help direct the traffic flow while also maximizing display space. Everywhere you look, there's humans and monsters milling about, sipping on complimentary drinks, but nothing catches your eye. For a brief moment, you toy with the idea of walking through the gallery, but all you really want right now is a warm shower and a quick meal before bed. 

You sigh and turn back around, pulling out your phone. At a quarter till 8pm, the sun has set less than an hour ago, meaning your jog home will be darker than anticipated. You groan and push past the crowds and out the front door, breathing in the cool fall air. After half-zipping your jacket, you stretch and begin the trek home.


	2. Open Mouth, Insert Foot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than a glimpse at some more boys. Gonna bring em in slow.

It's four o'clock on Wednesday, which means two things: one, the local fro-yo place runs a "No-Weight" special where you can get as much fro-yo as you can balance in the cup and two, all of the grad students in the art department go to Grillby's for burger night. It's an unofficial, unspoken bond between all of the sleep-deprived members of your friend group. You can't remember exactly when it started, or who suggested it, but you do remember when it switched from the local burger joint named Mother's to the monster-run pub. 

The first burger night at Grillby's happened only a week after it opened around 3 months ago (before the implementation of the MMSD act) and is one you'll never forget. At the time, it had been you, Emma, the two ceramics grads named Lynn and Sam, and the new sculpture grad Jenna. You'd all been headed to Mother's when you saw the neon-pink glow of the sign and heard the soft jazz coming from inside. Never being one to turn away from new experiences, Emma dragged the group inside and procured a table in the corner. 

Your server, a young fire elemental by the name of Fuku, had been absolutely ecstatic to see humans finally coming in and was quick to serve you all what had to be the best burger to ever grace your palette. Everything was going smoothly until a couple of frat boys wandered in. 

You had wanted to confront them about their derogatory jeers towards your server, but before you got a chance, they had begun wrecking the place. It was clear that Grillby and several of the other regulars were upset, but could do nothing but watch. You began to yell from your place at the table, but were quickly stopped by your friends. Jenna was closest to the group and, being that she lifted 150lb bars of steel on a regular basis, was quick to take down the one closest to her. The resulting scuffle ended up with both boys under arrest and several broken tables. Luckily, the bar was empty that night and no one else was around to get hurt. 

Since then, things have calmed down considerably and Grillby's has been your mid-week haven. For burger night tonight, you're dressed in your comfiest post-studio clothing: a grey shirt with a black zip-up hoodie and a pair of black basketball shorts with stripes up the side. Joining you is Emma and her boyfriend Nate. Everyone else responded to the group chat that they were still reeling from open-studio and said they'd prefer to avoid crowds for a few days. You had an inkling it might actually be because they have deadlines coming up, but choose not to comment.

You push open the door and quickly step inside to a very drunk Bun waving lazily from her booth. You grin and wave back, making sure to kick your feet on the mat while you survey the bar. Since it's early in the night and in the middle of the week, Grillby's is pretty much empty save for a few regulars. Bun is in her normal booth and lesser dog sits at a two-person table with greater dog. They both have their heads bent low over the table that is scattered with cards, faces taught with concentration. Looking closer, you see that the deck is actually a mixture of go-fish and Uno cards and that half of the cards are facing the wrong way. You hide a smile and turn away. 

Instead of taking your usual booth in the corner, Emma motions towards the bar. "There's only three of us tonight and I wanna get buzzed!" She pumps her fist in the air and Bun joins in with a shout, swinging her drink around merrily. Nate laughs, resting a hand on the small of her back and nudging her towards the bar. 

"Alright, but I'm not having any. I need to get back into the studio later." He sits down and takes the offered drink menu from Grillby, scanning the list. Emma merely nods along.  
�"Can't be buzzed in the studio, especially around so much heavy equipment, I getcha. I'd NEVER go into the hot shop buzzed, that's just asking for an injury." 

You laugh, sliding into the seat beside Emma and grab a menu for yourself. "Yeah but you'd be surprised how many students are shocked by that." Emma gives you a confused side-eye and you not-so-fondly recount finding one of your students in the studio: late at night, unsupervised, and sloshed. "And she was just gushing blood out of her thumb!" Your tone is borderline incredulous as you tap on the burger portion of the menu, mouthing a soft 'please' to Grillby. He nods and takes the menu. "Apparently she swung the hammer and just missed. But like… it was a rubber hammer! Not even a metal one! She must have been swinging way harder than she needed to." You raise your hands, shaking them in exasperation while Emma merely chuckles. 

"I mean I found one of the undergrads in short-shorts in the hotshop one day. I told her to go put pants on and the next thing I know, she's got this huge red welt across her legs because the pipe fell and hit them! I swear, no one cares about safety these days." Scanning over the menu, she points to one of the magical cocktails dubbed a Sunrise and then slides the menu back across the bar top to Grillby, who moves off to make her drink. "So! Enough studio talk! How's life! Met anyone new?" The not-at-all-subtle change in conversation has you choking on air and swinging around to face her. 

"Emma what the frickedy frack?? We've been over this, I'm demi and I really don’t have time to be 'getting to know anyone'. It's my last year! Besides…. I don't interact with anyone other than you guys." You cuff her shoulder and she rolls her eyes, feigning hurt. 

"Right but like… you don't wanna graduate and then be stuck all alone while trying to figure out what to do with your life do you?" She smiles as Grillby sets her drink in front of her, taking a big gulp to give you time to respond.

You groan and run a hand down your face. "Yes but if I do meet someone and I eventually start to develop feelings for them it's gonna be a helluva lot harder to find a job! If I am going to teach, I'll probably have to move cross-country and most people aren't just going to uproot their lives for that."

"Emma, hon, I think you should drop it. They've clearly thought this out enough," Nate mutters softly, a hand raising onto Emma's shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze. She turns her head towards him and nods once, sighing. 

"I just want you to be happy…" Oh no. She's giving you the puppydog eyes. You moan lowly and thunk your head onto the bar top. 

"I know I know…. Thanks for caring and all that jazz." 

By the time food arrives, Emma and Nate have engaged in a deep philosophical debate on companionship that you'd really rather not strain your brain over so you grab your burger and stuff it into your mouth, sighing contentedly. 'Man, Grillby's really is just the best…' you silently praise, dipping a fry into some mustard before popping it into your mouth. Behind you, the door bell chimes. There's brief chatter that dies for a moment, a particularly loud 'tch', and then shuffling sounds that seem to be moving further away.

You pause eating and tilt your head to the side. What could possibly have happened to elicit that kind of reaction? Feigning listening into Emma, you turn more and out of the corner of your eye, you see two skeletons. You've seen a lot of shapes and sizes of monsters, to the point that you honestly thought you had seen it all, but this one really takes the cake. The sight is shocking enough that you forget subtlety and whip your head fully to face them. One is wearing an orange hoodie, currently pulled up over their head as they rest atop one arm and gesture lazily towards the other skeleton with the other. From beneath the booth they're situated at, you can see the tips of orange sneakers and a pair of khaki shorts. Their face is obscured by the hood from this angle.

The other sports a black jacket with yellow fur trim, a pair of basketball shorts similar to your own but yellow-lined, and a pair of black and red sneakers. Their back is to you, but you can see a bit of red sleeve poking out of the cuff of their jacket. The skull is a smooth porcelain white that disappears into the fluff of their hood. Based on the low bass of the grumbling, this is the one that's upset. You furrow your brows, trying to figure out what could possibly have happened to annoy this stranger when the orange-hooded skeleton shifts and suddenly, you're staring into two pin-prick orange eyelights. 

You whip your head back to Emma and cough, blushing furiously for being so nosy. The grumbly skeleton make a questioning sound. There's soft conversation, then a brief pause before you hear the padding of footsteps approaching on your right. 

"hey" You tilt your head, face still burning as your stomach clenches. The hooded skeleton is sliding into the bar stool next to you, his lights trained on your face. You hear Emma's small intake of breath behind you, followed by Nate's shushing and attempt at distracting her. 

"Uhh.." you begin ungraciously, running a hand up and down the back of your head, pulling at the strands. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to stare! I just…. Hngh." You bury your face in your hands and mutter a soft "kill me now". The skeleton in front of you just laughs, extending their hand. 

"it's fine hun. not every day you see a walkin', talkin' skeleton. name's Stretch." You peek at him, then his hand, gauging his smile (which seems genuine) before reaching out cautiously and shaking it. 

You provide him with your name, followed shortly by another apology. "I'm sorry, I just- I heard your friend scoff and I thought maybe something was wrong or that we did something wrong so I was trying to figure out what, but then I saw you both and I just…. I know it's rude to stare but I've never seen skeleton monsters before and you're literally being held together by invisible stuff, magic probably, and you've got these little eyeballs made of light and you're justsodamncooland-" Your heart bottoms out when you hear a soft 'snrk' behind you followed by barely-concealed giggles. "oh. oh god. I'm rambling" You finish lamely before thunking your head down on the bar, hard enough to elicit a soft gasp from Emma. 

"HEY!" She chastises, lifting you up and checking your forehead. "Stop that." 

"NooOoo" You moan woefully, flinching when Stretch chuckles behind you. You turn again, rubbing your forehead. 

"nah it's fine. Red's just being a baby. he prefers sitting up at the bar. closer to the drinks." He motions to the wall of liquor bottles, then at the bartender himself. "plus Grillbz is just a great conversationalist." He rolls his eye lights, swinging them to look at Red who, from the tilt of his skull, is probably listening in. 

"Oh." You spin, looking at the bar and indeed, there was only one spot open and Stretch was occupying it. "Well er… we usually don't sit here, if that helps. And ah... we only come in on Wednesdays... And we will be gone soon?" It ends up more of a question as you tilt your head towards Emma. She gives a noncommittal shrug as response and waves Grillby over for a refill. "Er… maybe not… we can move to a booth though-" you pause when Stretch waves his hand dismissively. 

"nah he'll be fine. 's our first time coming in so early in the day anyways. jus' wanted to make sure that…." his gaze flits down to your chest briefly before returning to your face. "well, its not important anyways. but hey… if you have any questions about.. snrk… 'damn cool' skeletons in the future, then you could always just come ask." You're… is there even a word for beyond mortified? Well whatever it is, that's what you are. Emma has given up on any pretense of not eavesdropping and is giggling heartily at your discomfort. You flick your eyes down, hoping the floor will swallow you whole. 

"Yeah. Got it. Thanks." You swing around and grab Emma's newly refilled drink, ignoring her squawk of indignation as you down the whole thing in one go. There's a breathless laughter and fading footsteps behind you, but yo refuse to turn. Your face is hot with embarrassment and your brain feels like mush. "Emma… why? Why am I so bad at interacting with people??" You whisper, hot tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. Seeing this, she quickly snaps back whatever retort she had formed and pats your back.

"Hey, it wasn't that bad. Really. You're overthinking things again." She rubs soothing circles onto your back while thanking Grillby for the quick refill, subtly sliding it out of your reach. "Besides, he basically gave you an invitation to go talk to him again if you wanted so I doubt he was that upset with you in the first place." 

You take a moment to glance over your shoulder, eyeing Stretch and… Red? Yeah… Stretch and Red. They've got their heads bowed close and seem to be in deep conversation, but Stretch catches your eye and winks. Red starts to turn so you spin back around and grip the edge of the stool. "Absolutely not. He was just being nice. Hnnnnghhhh……. I….. might leave burger night early." You hold up a finger to halt Emma's protest. "C'mon, there's barely anyone here anyways. I'm just third-wheeling- Which is fine! Really, I just… I'm not feeling it tonight." 

Emma examines you a moment before nodding. "That's ok! Just text me when you get home?" You nod and, after sliding a couple of tens over the counter, you turn and head out the door without a second glance.


	3. I Can't Weight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit shorter, but I wanted to get 3 up for the first grouping of uploads so I can make future updates longer.

It's still early, just after six when you exit the bar. The sun is sinking towards the horizon, painting the sky a darkening wash of oranges. You check your phone and sigh; it's too early to head to the gym (not to mention you're starting to feel the beginnings of a buzz) so you veer off to the right and head towards Ebott Central, a quaint park situated in the center of town. As the weather gets cooler, there are fewer and fewer people out and about in the evening, so the park is mostly empty. 

You park yourself on a bench with a sigh, kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs to your chest. The only sounds now are the soft whooshing of the fountain and the distant sounds of children on a playground. You sit like this, head rested on your crossed arms, until you start to doze only to jump abruptly when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's Emma, and she's wondering if you made it home yet. You check the time, belatedly realizing the sun has already set: it's eight now. After shooting her a quick text saying that 'yes, you're fine, you just stopped at the park and lost track of time', you tuck your phone away and, after quickly assessing yourself, decide that you are, in fact, well enough to go to the gym. 

*******

Slim Gym is the only local exercise facility that offers discounts to students, so naturally it's the one you signed up for. The location is just a short distance from campus, yet far enough away from the downtown area to be out of the hustle-and-bustle of the night life. Not to mention, the name really sealed the deal. You'd never openly admit it, but you had a soft spot for puns; the worse they were, the more you loved them. 

The gym itself also openly supports monsters and was quick to adapt the facilities and equipment to suit monster needs. All the equipment is now set to max out considerably higher and is adjustable for more heights and more limbs. It was a good investment on their part, since the monster clients were far more respectful with the equipment and never left any sort of sweat on the machines. 

Walking inside, you swiped your membership card at the scanner and headed into the locker room. Once there, you claimed a locker, tucked all of your valuables inside, then headed out to the mats. You began with a simple stretching routine, trying to loosen all of your muscles. Despite trying to exercise at least thrice a week, the results had been slower than you had hoped (and clearly had nothing to do with your unwavering addiction to ice-cream).

You pulled your arm cross-body, grunting softly when it shifted and popped. A soft "GASP" sounded behind you, though it took a moment to process that someone had said the word and not just imitated the sound. Releasing your stretch, you craned your neck slightly to look over your shoulder and immediately felt the heat rise to your face. 

Standing near the entrance were two skeletons, but these were not the two you had met just hours before. One of them was tall; taller than Stretch, and sported a "Jog Boy" crop top and neon joggers topped off with a red scarf that… looked familiar somehow? He currently had his hands placed over his mouth, eyes boggling as he looked every which way.

The other skeleton was shorter and wore a blue hoodie, white shirt, and basketball shorts that matched your own. To top the look off, he sported dingey pink house slippers on his feet. Something told you that he didn't intend to work out, especially with the way he was warily eyeing the place. It looked like the only reason he hadn't bolted was because the taller skeleton had a death grip on his hood.

"BROTHER! Look!! They Have So Many Different Types Of Equipment Here!" The tall skeleton shouted, gently shaking his brother. He seemed to dance back and forth on his feet, giddy and pointing wildly.

"heh. sure do, Paps." The shorter one swung his gaze around, passing briefly over you before continuing to the far wall where the gym's logo was emblazoned. "heh. there's a slim chance they might have everything you need." 

Paps(?) stiffened and the shorter skeleton began to sweat. "Sans…" He spoke, significantly softer than before as his brother, Sans gulped.

"y…yeah paps?" He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets and seemed to be looking everywhere but at his brother.

"I Think This Gym Might Just… WORK OUT! NYEH HEH HEH!" He jumped and posed, his scarf catching one of the industrial fans and swaying in the breeze. "Thoroughly Japed Again By The Great Papyrus!!" 

'Ah, Paps was a nickname' you thought to yourself, getting to your feet as you watch Sans relax and wink at his brother. 

"heh. you're the coolest bro." His eyes flick over to you and you freeze for a moment before smiling sheepishly and half-waving. His brow ridge raises and you raise both hands, quick to explain. 

"H…. Ah, hi! Sorry ah, I've… got a habit of staring… apparently… but ah.. You're new here right? Lemme go grab Jim for you!" He turn and skitter off towards the offices tucked away underneath the stairs and give a solid shave-and-a-haircut knock. After a moment, Jim swings open the door and mutters a gruff 'two bits' before eyeing you. 

"Whatch'r want? Som'n broken?" He peers past you, trying to see through the wall into the equipment room.

"Oh, uh.. Nah Jim, you've just got some new clients and no one was at the front desk so…" Shrugging, you make a sweeping gesture and then turn to follow him out to the desk where you catch the tail end of the conversation between the two skeletons. 

"-nd If You Make A Pun Off Of It, I Swear…." 

"aw but paps… c'mon… its Jim's Gym. Slim Jim's Gym. it practically writes itself!" You snort ungraciously and turn your head to the side quickly, cursing your eavesdropping nature. Luckily, Jim is already behind the desk and clicking away at the computer. 

"I git more'n 'nuff puns offa m'name 'n you kin throw at me. Don’ bother me none." He holds out his hand and, when both monsters hesitate, he says "IDs?" 

"Oh!" Papyrus hastily pulls out his ID and drops it in Jim's waiting hand but Sans hesitates. "Sans… Come On! It Will Be Fun! Look!! You Can Even Keep The Same Clothes Since The Human Is Wearing Basically The Same Thing- though I do question their fashion choice..." You squawk and flush, tugging at your shirt as you jump to defend yourself.

"It's comfy to work out in! And the hoodie is for when I walk home because it's cold out later!" Papyrus eyes you and nods.

"On You It Is Acceptable, Human! If Only Because You Clearly Know The Joys Of Working Out! Oh, Pardon My Manners.." He steps over to you and sticks his hand out jarringly quick. "My Name Is The Great Papyrus! But You Can Just Call Me Papyrus, Because I Already Know That I Am Great!"

You state your name and put your hand in his, jumping when he shakes your entire arm. "N-nice to meet you Papyrus!" you put as much earnest as you can muster into the sentence, grinning. Papyrus then turns on Sans and clears his non-existent throat, to which Sans rolls his eyes and sticks his hand out. 

"name's sans. sans the skeleton" He winks and you tentatively grab his hand and shake. Papyrus lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding when you both release hands and you send him a questioning look. He seems prepared to answer, but Jim clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. You apologize and wave.

"Sorry about disrupting all this. Er, happy gym-ing?" Papyrus beams and shoots you a thumbs up.

"It Is No Problem Human! Perhaps We Can Work Out Together! Then You Will See My Amazing Skills And Be Swayed Into Being My Gym Buddy! Nyeh Heh Heh!" You give the skeleton a dopey grin and nod before heading off to do your routine with a pair of eye lights watching you go until you disappear up the stairs, mildly bemused. 

You don't run into the two brothers again, much to your disappointment. You realized, albeit belatedly, that Papyrus's enthusiasm had really given you a boost that drove you through your HIIT workout. Instead, you finish up your routine, gather your things, and then send another text to Emma letting her know you are headed home.


	4. Pop A Squat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gym time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the story starts to pick up from here as we interact with the skeletons more. I don't want that 'immediate adoption' phase so i'm trying to go slow. Let me know what you think!

Thursdays are your own little respite from a busy work week. You don't teach and you only have one studio class in the mornings, so most of your day is free. Since lunch is one of the times Emma is usually free, you swing by her studio and pop your head into her space.

The area is cluttered with eclectic objects: things from plastic skulls to antique toys. The desk, a small wooden frame with plenty of drawers, is piled high with papers that have scribbled notes in the margins and sweeping gestural drawings covering the centers. On each side of the small walled-in area there are shelves upon shelves filled with glasswork, things ranging from functional bowls and plates to massive sculptural aquatic life. All of these objects catch the natural light filtering in from the overhead skylight, sending a spectrum of colors dancing along the walls. The back wall is occupied by the woman herself, currently napping in a makeshift hammock holder that's really just a garage shelving unit. 

"Hey Em!" You call out, pushing on the hammock. It begins to rock softly and Emma snorts, jumping up and tearing her headphones off. 

"Jeez, ___ you almost gave me a heart attack!!" Placing a hand over her chest, she grabs the nearest bar to halt the swinging. 

"Sorry! Didn't realize you had the headphones in. It's lunchtime yanno?" She peers out over the hammock, squinting warily before rotating her body and patting the empty space. 

"You really gotta stop apologizing all the time. We can grab lunch at the atrium if you're up for a little walk… Pumpkin?" Your face squishes up and you shake your head. "Damn, gimme a sec…" Emma taps her chin and pulls up her phone. She has been trying to find you a gender-neutral term of endearment and, while her efforts are sweet, most of the attempts have been cringe-worthy at best. 

"Em, it's fine. Just stick with like… comrade or uh… well I'm not a big fan of captain. Hm…" You slump into the hammock, sighing.

"How about 'human'?" The suggestion makes you jump, followed by an undignified snort. 

"That skeleton I was telling you about from the gym calls me that. Its not bad, just… a bit generic. Like... It could refer to anyone."

"Okay… what about Bee? You're always buzzing around and you've got more energy than anyone I know. Plus, you're super protective of friends." Emma makes a wavy flying motion with her hands and you pause, smiling. 

"Yeah… I could handle Bee." 

"Great! I'm posting it in the group chat." She rolls over and tucks into herself, typing quickly. You let out an undignified squawk and grab for the phone.

"Ah wait that's embarrassing!! I can tell them myself." A soft hiss escapes her, halting your assault while she rolls back over, grinning. 

"Oops? Already hit send." She waggles it in front of your face and you blush at the positive comments from your friends that come filing in. 

"Oh man you are the worst" Chuckling, you nudge her shoulder with your own. Your stomach chooses this moment to let out its whale call, sending you both into another fit of giggles. 

"Alright, let's get some food for you lil bee." She hoists herself from the hammock and offers her hand, which you gladly take. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade her friendship for the world. 

******** 

Friday comes faster than you had expected, bringing with it a whirlwind of activity. You teach introductory metalsmithing for three hours in the morning, followed by attending an art history class, and finishing with office hours. Since your students have just started on the soldering project, there are few visits and you find yourself leaving for home in record time. 

Ebott Apartments, being newly renovated since the need to accommodate an influx population, provides a significant amount of space per unit. The apartments are linked in twos, sharing a single wall, and each apartment is two levels. The layout consists of one and a half baths and two bedrooms (though you use the loft bedroom more as storage than anything else). There's even a garage that you have been using as your at-home studio since your car broke down.

When you arrive at your unit on the backside of the complex, you dig out your key and stick it into the lock, turning. The door swings freely under your touch and you step inside before flicking the lights on.

"I'm home!" You call out softly, stuffing the keys back into your pocket and shrugging of both bag and jacket in one motion. 

Your grey cat Poppy (or Pops as you affectionately nicknamed her) is currently snoozing in your cat tree's hammock, situated up against the front window of the apartment. Her nickname, as you were told some months after adopting her, originated when a friend of a friend assisted in her rescue. At the time, her fur was so matted and clumped that they couldn't tell what gender she was, and she seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face. They had taken to calling her Old Man, or Pops, while they worked to catch her. 

Despite her tattered appearance, Poppy was quite the agile feline and left the rescuers running circles for hours while dodging her grumpy swipes. When they finally caught and treated her, only to discover she was female, it became an inside joke to keep her name as Pops the British Longhair. You of course had no issue with this and, while her legal name is Poppy, you and everyone else always refer to her as Pops. 

The nickname has its setbacks and, of course, has gotten you more than a few confused looks from eavesdroppers. You'll never forget the time you were animatedly recounting the tale of Pops using her litterbox for the first time to Emma on your expedition to the local mall. 

"And Pops just hopped right on in, popped a squat, and shat right then and there. I was so proud! Even had the decency to cover it up afterwards!" You had gushed, grinning from ear to ear. Emma, of course, had been the one to motion over your shoulder where an older woman looked to be choking on laughter. "It's!! My cat!! I swear!!" 

She still won't let you live that one down, but now you catch her gushing about Pops as if she were her own cat. The thought makes you smile, and you wonder, not for the first time, when Nate is going to cave and allow Emma to get a cat. Sure, he's mildly allergic, but that doesn't stop him from smooshing his face into Pops's fur whenever he visits, citing that he can feel her purrs better that way. 

Getting up from the couch, you spare a glance at the stove: its five o'clock now, which means you've got an hour before the gym. Not that you'd admit it, but you're secretly hoping to run into Papyrus again. It's difficult managing school, teaching, and your side gig of assisting, but you always make time to exercise. The same, however, cannot be said for the other grads. Trying to find a consistent gym buddy is like herding cats: the second your attention is away, they're off somewhere else shoving their heads into a box- and yes, you do mean that literally. It had taken you four hours one time to get Sam's head out of the ventilation box because he quote 'really wanted to get some fresh air'. At least with what you could tell from Papyrus, his motivation is steady and strong. 

With plenty of time to spare, you dress in near-identical clothes (if only to be resolute in your stance on comfort… and also maybe to support Sans if he actually shows up again) before locking up and heading back out. 

The gym is only a twenty minute jog from your apartment on the outskirts of campus and its one you find yourself taking slower today, if only because you'll be early if you rush it. The trees have begun their telltale shift to orange and the ground already has a thinly accumulated bedding. In the distance, you can hear a siren sailing towards what you recognize as the direction of the neighboring hospital. 

Silence returns to the area fairly quickly and you close your eyes for a moment, exhaling. It's surreal to think about graduation and the future…. to think that this is the last year you will walk this path, live this routine, have these friends so close… It had never really hit home until now but… you're honestly a bit terrified of the change. Three years is both a long journey and a short blip in a lifespan, yet you feel like you’ve changed as a person since your acceptance and the subsequent arrival of an entirely new species. Your thoughts drift to the skeletons you met at the bar. 

Though your interaction with Stretch was brief, he seemed genuine and laid-back in a way that reminded you of Nate: cautious, but well-meaning. You remember him saying that he didn't usually come in so early during the week; does that mean he's a nightlife kind of guy? That would match up with his stoner-esque appearance… Then there's Red, who you haven't interacted with personally. What kind of guy gets upset because he can't sit at the bar? He's probably a creature of routine and habit, you reason. 

Finally, there's Sans and Papyrus; the brothers who seem to be complete opposites in every way. From your small interaction with them, you can tell that Papyrus probably drags his brother along for most of their adventures and the thought makes you smile. You spend the rest of the walk wondering what kind of shenanigans skeletons get up to.

********

You arrive at the gym at a quarter till six, earlier than your usual time, and use the brief moment to look inside. The ground level of Slim Gym is one large equipment room(mostly weights and mats) with locker rooms and the office in the back while the second floor breaks the space into two distinct areas. Half is used for bikes, ellipticals, treadmills and the like while the other half is broken into smaller rooms for group workouts. From your vantage point near the door, you can't see up onto the second floor and from what you can see of the first, the energetic skeleton is not here. 

You stifle the growing disappointment and slip in, waving at Jim before swiping your card. He briefly tilts his head to acknowledge you and you miss the faint smile gracing his lips as you continue on to the locker rooms. You're stuffing the gym bag you carry with you into the cubby when you hear a faint 'Nyeh!' from the wall that separates the two bays. Your breath catches in your throat and you grin, hurrying along your actions and trying not to seem overeager as you pop out of the lockers and look around. 'Huh. He must still be getting ready.' You muse before setting down on your usual mat to begin your pre-workout stretching. 

"Human!!" You jump, startled out of a butterfly pose as your head flies up. Papyrus is exiting the locker room, dragging a very uncomfortable looking Sans behind him. "I Had Hoped To See You Again! How Are You Doing?" 

You grin and ease out of the stretch before resting back on your palms to look up at them. "I'm doing great! I was ah… also kind of hoping you'd be here." You see Sans stiffen and raise and eyebrow so you quickly explain. "None of my friends can keep a consistent schedule for workouts and so most of the time it's just me here! Gets kinda boring after a while when there's no one to compete with or keep ya motivated." 

Papyrus nods along before adding, "I Completely Understand! I Have To Drag Sans Along To Get Him To Come With Me And Even Then, He Barely Exerts Himself!" His reprimanding look swings to Sans, who merely shrugs and winks, before he continues. "But Luckily My Ah… Cousin Has Agreed To Start Coming With Me In His Stead!"

"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow at his awkward pause, but shrug it off quickly. "Well if he's as enthusiastic about working out as you are, I'd really love to join you guys. Er… if that's ok with you? Ah, sorry, didn't mean to imply that I was going to be working out with you guys if you don't want me there! Feel free to tell me no, really!" 

A small look of confusion is exchanged between the brothers before Papyrus responds. "Nonsense Human! I Would Be More Than Happy If You Joined Us! The More The Merrier They Say." 

You look to Sans, who has been silent this whole time, to gauge his reaction. "fine by me if it gets me out of this" A nonchalant shrug, followed by him plopping down onto the mat startle a giggle out of you. 

"Alright bone boy. Pop a squat." You grin and Papyrus lets out a high pitched whine. 

"THAT WASN'T.…YOU JUST….. UGH!!" He flops down onto the mat with a soft rattle of bones and swing into a perfect split, reaching between his legs. 

"Uh…" You stare, gobsmacked. "I guess… skeletons don't really need to stretch huh?" Your gaze shifts to Sans, who has his legs out straight and his hands extended to just over his knees. He isn't even trying.

"eh. depends on the skele-hrk!" Papyrus presses him forward, cutting him off. His hands are now at mid-calf, not even that deep of a stretch, but he's clearly struggling. Blue sweat starts to bead on his forehead and you openly stare. "p-paps i don't bend like that!" He wheezes, trying to sit back up but Papyrus is having none of it. 

"Nonsense Brother! You Just Need To Relax!" He pushes a little more and Sans shoots you a pleading look; you're quick to pop to your feet and clap. 

"M-maybe we should let Sans stretch at his own pace and we can go uh… do a circuit on the weights or something." Papyrus's head tilts to the side in consideration for a brief moment before he nods and removes his hand from Sans's back, allowing him to pop back up and wheeze deeply.

"That Is Acceptable. SANS! Come Join Us When You're Done." He spares a glance at his brother before heading to the far end of the room with the leg-press equipment. You glance after him before squatting down by Sans and smiling nervously. 

"You okay dude? You look about ready to puke… er- if skeletons can even do that?" 

He lets out another wheeze, softer this time, and rolls until he's face down on the mat. " 'm jus' g'nna chill here" He mutters followed by a low groan. You let out a breathy laugh and a 'Don't work too hard' before trotting over to Papyrus. 

The remainder of the workout is spend trying to keep up with Papyrus, who literally seems to have no limit. If it weren't for Sans's display earlier, you would believe that it was a skeleton thing, what with the lack of muscles and all that. He's quick to assure you that no, you don't have to keep up with him and he's just happy to have someone here talking and exercising with him. 

Sans hasn't moved from his spot on the floor, though you do catch the soft glow of phone light under his face-down form so he's probably just chilling (even if the position he's in doesn't look remotely comfortable).

You and Papyrus dip into the locker rooms to grab your things before meeting up by the mats. Papyrus says nothing as he swipes Sans up and onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, sticking his hand out to you. "It Has Been A Pleasure Working Out With You Human! I Hope We Can Do It Again Soon."

You grab his hand and shake it, nodding along. "I come in every Wednesday and Friday after office hours so I'll be here!" He pauses, thinking for a moment before nodding. 

"Then I Will See You Then! But Just In Case…" He fishes his phone out, unlocks it, and points it towards you. "I'd Like To Have Your Number So That We Can Co-ordinate Better And Maybe Pick Up Extra Times?" Ah jeez, he's so hopeful… You take the phone and type in your number, tagging it as 'Bee, Your Gym Buddy'. 

"Yeah I think I can manage a few extra workouts if it means getting to hang out with you." Papyrus sputters, his skull glowing a soft orange. He plucks at his phone for a second before your pocket buzzes.

"O-OF COURSE HUMAN! WHO WOULDN’T WANT TO HANG OUT IN MY MAGNIFICENT PRESENCE?" Oof, seems his volume control goes out the window when he's flustered. You smile and nod, turning to go. 

"hey kid." You turn to see Sans has his phone out to you too. You take it curiously, typing in your number along with your name before handing it back. He nods and pockets it, to which you raise your eyebrow. Alright then, no exchange. 

You give a quick salute and wave goodbye to both skeletons before shouldering your bag and walking home.


	5. A Burning Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's workshop day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah man, I feel like I'm on a roll right now. We'll see how long it lasts.

"Oh. Ow. Owie. Ooooh…" You gingerly slide out of bed, legs threatening to give out. You haven't felt this kind of leg day pain since your last 5k which was, admittedly, several years ago. You must've really pushed yourself against Papyrus yesterday which means you'll probably be in pain for the next few days as your body recuperates. To top it off, it's Saturday; the hot shop is open for community workshops and you're getting paid to assist anyone who wants to give it a try. 

'Hope they don't mind me moving slow' you muse on the way to the bathroom. You run through your morning routine before dressing in loose cotton clothes and heading into the kitchen. Poppy greets you with an indignant howl, pawing at her bowl.

"Oh hush you, you act like I starve you." Snickering, you grab the bowl and set it on the counter, grabbing Poppy's food from the cabinet. You'd returned home from class one day to find her stuck face-first in the cleaned out bag, snoring. After that, you tried a pull-out bin, but the results were the same. She had given you a heart-attack when you'd searched the apartment top to bottom only to find her passed out in the shut bin, and you're still not sure how she shut it after climbing in. 

When you snap open the air-tight bin, her attitude shifts a complete 180; she's weaving through your legs, purring madly. "Oh Pops, what am I gonna do with you?" You measure out the dry bits, putting a dollop of wet food on top before placing it down. As soon as the bowl touches the floor, she's inhaling the food like there's no tomorrow. You scoop her up, ignoring the pathetic mewls, and shake your finger at her. 

"Eat slower Pops! You're gonna make yourself sick! The vet already thinks you need to lose a few pounds and I really don't want to prove her right. Oh don't give me that look, you could do with a little exercise." You stare down Poppy and she meows, batting your face once, twice before touching her nose to your cheek. You feel like she's gotten the message so you set her back down. She approaches the bowl and, when it's clear you're not going to interfere, dips her head down and continues eating. 

Satisfied, you move through the motions of making your own breakfast: a small pile of chocolate chip pancakes with a heavy side of syrup. The instant pancake mix tastes better than the pre-frozen option in your opinion and it's still easy to make. You butter the pan before adding in the batter, sprinkling the chocolate chips on top. Once the surface is sufficiently bubbled, you flip it. Soon, you've got yourself a four-stack of fluffy pancakes. 

From upstairs, you hear your phone chime and your heart drops. "Oh no…" you groan, looking at the stairs with unabated loathing. "I could've sworn I had everything I needed before coming downstairs…" Setting your food down on the dining room table, you venture to the foot of the stairs and grip the railing. "Alright, you've got this. It's just some steps." You take the first step, letting out a high-pitched whine. "Fuuuuuuuuuck stairs." Moving slowly, you reach the top and poke your head into your bedroom. 

The soft seafoam walls reflect what little light sneaks in through the curtains, giving the room a dull glow. Your gaze sweeps the room, passing over the dresser with your modest TV perched atop, the cat tree in the corner Poppy practically lives in, even the bedside table with your favorite touch-sensor lamp before landing on the bed. It's the last place you remember having it after coming home, showering, and immediately passing out. 

It takes some digging, but you uncover your prize from the pillows with a triumphant 'ha!' before scrolling through the notifications. There's a series of increasingly worried texts from Emma, starting last night and culminating in one just now threatening to break into your house if there wasn't a response in the next five minutes. You shoot her a text letting her know that yes, you're fine. No, you weren't ignoring her, you just passed out soon after getting home. Yes, you'll be in for the workshop within an hour so she can confirm it's you and not your murderer's cover-up. You shake your head and laugh at that. Emma is such a worrywart, always acting like the mom of the group, but you know she means well. You scroll further through your notifications and hum thoughtfully.

Looks like someone else wanted to make sure you made it home too? Weird. Scrolling up, you check the first message from the unknown number and, after reading through the text, you smack a hand to your forehead and groan; you forgot to respond to Papyrus's greeting text from yesterday! You quickly save him down in your phone before shooting him a text, apologizing for the delay and thanking him for worrying about you. After sending it, you type up another to ask about how he's doing and what his plans for today are, but hesitate to hit send. 

You don't want to come across as pushy or needy, but you really enjoy having new friends and Papyrus seems so genuine that you don't even need to worry about ulterior motives. Your thoughts shift to Sans and you sigh. He clearly seems hesitant about your friendship with Papyrus if the weird looks he kept shooting you were to go by. Would he be opposed if you tried to befriend Papyrus outside of the gym? Would Papyrus even want that? 

"You're being unreasonable here. He's not gonna think too hard on it so why are you?" You're pacing, a nervous habit you picked up from Nate, and it's making your anxiety rise. "Right. Don’t think, just do." You smack the send button before stuffing your phone back into your pocket and heading back downstairs.

The pancakes are lamentably cold so you stuff them into the microwave for a couple of minutes and scarf them down soon after, throwing the dishes into the sink for later. You check through your bag to be certain it has all of your necessities for today before walking over to the cat tree and patting the top. Poppy shoots out from under the table, alert. You smack again and she bolts up the tree before plopping on the top tier, exposing her belly for rubs. Knowing this to be a trick, you maneuver your hand around to her head and give her a few good scratches behind the ear. Once you're sure she's satisfied with the amount of attention she's been given, you place a small kiss on the crown of her head and depart.

You check your phone for probably the tenth time since leaving the house and shake your head, stuffing it right back in. Maybe it's naïve, but you had really thought that Papyrus would have responded to your text by now. Maybe he's busy? That's the only reason Emma isn't on your case right now; she's the lead for setting up and running the workshop. Since Halloween is just around the corner, the workshop is focusing on blown glass pumpkins and smaller solid press-mold skulls. Because of the more intricate nature, the pumpkin-making stations have two volunteers per bench and, with three benches in the hotshop, that's six assistants. Add to that the two assistants running the press-mold and Emma really has her hands full. You just hope that she had the forethought to pair the two of you together on a bench; you're not sure you can handle a repeat of the last workshop. You shiver, running your hand over the thin burn scar on your arm. Yeah, you'll only work with partners you trust. 

The remainder of the walk is uneventful and you arrive at the hotshop, slipping in the back door and dropping your stuff in your locker. You poke your head into Emma's space, but she's missing. 'Must be in the hotshop already'. The hallways leading to the hotshop are teaming with townsfolk, each scattered into small groupings with complementary refreshments in hand. The closer you get to the hot shop, the denser the crowd becomes. 

Out here, the seating area is full to the max, making it difficult for anyone else to see into the shop. It's clear that not everyone is here to participate; there are elderly women with knitting supplies set in the corner near the edge of the viewing window, occasionally glancing up into the chaos to watch whatever's happening. There are also a fair amount of children running around dangerously close to crashing into the adults. You chuckle and shake your head, pushing your way through and to the door. Your heart skips a beat when you look through the window and a grin breaks across your face.

"Hey guys!" Two bony skulls whip up to see you: one elated, the other annoyed. You try not to let San's attitude ruin your mood as you make your way over to where Emma is currently gathering glass. "Emma." You acknowledge her by grabbing the door and she grins, wiggling her eyebrows and not-so-subtly gesturing with her chin to the brothers. 

"I'm gonna guess these are the other skeletons you were telling me about then? Your descriptions are spot on by the way. I couldn't get the short one to do anything no matter what I tried. And the tall one is just a cinnamon roll." She pulls out the pipe and walks to the marver, shaping the molten glass.

You flush and wave your hand. "Yeah, that's Sans and Papyrus. I honestly didn't know they'd be here today…" You shut the door and wander back over to the bench where Papyrus greets you cheerfully.

"Good Morning Human! I Am Surprised To See You Here!" Papyrus, lively as ever, is bouncing in his seat, eyes trained on Emma. He spares you the occasional glance, but it's clear he's highly invested in the process. You motion for him to move closer; clearly Emma's on the demonstration round, so he's not required to do anything but watch and it'd be better if he was a bit closer. He shoots you a nervous look but, at your smile, hops up and hovers nearby. Sans follows, only slightly more relaxed than when you entered. He keeps shooting you nervous looks so you decide to explain; you don't want him thinking you're a stalker after all. 

"I assist here on weekends and during the week whenever someone pays me to." You gesture to Emma and then to yourself. "We're both third year grad students here. Emma's the glass goddess, obviously, and I'm kind of interdisciplinary with a focus in metals. It's not as exciting to watch but.. It's fun." 

Emma snorts and rolls her eyes. "Don't let them fool you, Bee once MIG welded a sculpture while hanging from a chain on the roof. They looked like Spiderman but, you know, cooler because of the sparks and shit. Kinda wish I'd taken a photo…."

"EMMA!!" You sputter, smacking her shoulder. "You know it was the only way to reach! Besides, you've had to blow glass from the top of a twenty foot ladder so you're one to talk!" 

"Well how ELSE was I supposed to get it to drop as long as I wanted it?" She pops the pipe up to her lips, giving it a bubble and smoothing the sides again.

"WOWIE!" You jump, almost having forgotten about Papyrus's presence. "Human Bee, That Is Amazing! I Didn't Know You Were An Artist." 

You rub your neck sheepishly and look away. "Haha, yeah… I didn't wanna force you to listen to my whole life story since it's not that interesting."

"dunno kid, seems like you've done some unbeelievable things." Sans shoots you a wink and you smile. Seems like he trusts that you're not a psycho, if only because Emma can back you up. 

"SANS! You Will NOT Ruin My First Workshop With Your Incessant Puns!" He makes a shooing motion, but his lips are curled up at the edges. Off to the side, Emma is shaking with barely contained laughter. 

"whelp. guess that's my cue to leaf" he kicks one of the leaves that's blown in from the cracked bay doors and Papyrus makes a noise similar to a screaming deer. You snicker and grab Sans's arm, pulling him along. 

"Let's go make some skulls and get out of your brother's hair-er.." You facepalm and Sans's eyelights brighten. "No" you cut in, seeing his mouth open. "Don't. No more. Here," He grab a punty and set it in his hand, an exasperated look on your face. "Let's get some glass so you can make a skull. 

Sans stares at the rod in his hand like it has personally offended him. "like… actually do work?" You shake your head and tug him over to the furnace, hand on the door. 

"It's not so much work as fun. Plus you'll be able to keep everything you make if you want to." You crack open the door and motion him forward. "I'm sure you saw Em do this. Just stick it in about an inch and a half and twirl it like spaghetti or ah… maybe honey is a better example. Yeah.. Twirl it like honey to get it to stay on. It's a pretty viscous substance the colder it gets, so you only need to fight to keep surface tension from here to the marver. Then you can tap it down into the color if you want."

"huh.." He sets the rod on the ledge and begins spinning. Once you're certain he has enough glass, you motion for him to pull out. 

"Keep turning!" You remind him before leading him over to the marver. He's nervous, that much is obvious, but he also seems fairly intrigued, if the way he's playing around with the gravitational effect on glass is any indication. "Hey, bonehead." He jumps and you point to the color in the scoops. "Do you want it to have color on this first one or nah?" His expression scrunches for a second before he shakes his head.

"Ok, no color. C'mere then." You motion for him to hold the rod vertical over the mold, glass facing down. Once the spinning has stopped and gravity takes effect, the glass drips right off the end in globs, landing into the mold. You grab the diamond shears and cut away the excess, taking the rod and tossing it into the bin. Grabbing a tagliol for shaping and a large torch, you move to smooth the top surface down but pause when Sans disappears as the first flame kicks on with a roar. You turn off the torch and, abandoning the piece, spin before calling out. "Sans?!" 

"here" comes the weak call from behind the furnace. You brush past a befuddled Em and circle the furnace to find Sans crouched, hand over his chest. There's a soft blue glow coming from his eye socket that puts you on edge. "patella you the truth, not a big fan of flamethrowers kid." His tone is muted but the bite is clear: he's upset.

"Sorry! We use the propane torches to heat the glass back up to smooth out the wrinkles. I just… I'm around it so often that I kinda forgot how loud it can be." Sans takes a moment to process this and you turn and wave off Emma who had begun following you after your panicked shout. "We're fine, just a jump scare." She shrugs and turns back to Papyrus, who looks only mildly concerned. There's an awkward silence before you choose to speak up again. " How'd you even get over here so fast? And don't say you ran because I know you can barely touch your knees." You squint, finger raised. 

Sans smiles wryly, raising his hands in a half-hearted spirit fingers. "magic." He straightens himself before brushing at his hoodie. "you should put a warning on that thing."

You nod fervently and offer a smile. "I'll make sure that gets incorporated into the demos from now on. You wanna sit the rest out? I won't be offended or anything."

He seems to think for a moment before shaking his head. "nah, i'm fine now. 'sides, having these skulls for gifts will really be humerus. A bone-afide treat."

"I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself considering you haven't even gotten one done yet." You relax and walk back over to the marver, discarding the now-cracked piece. 

"oh. guess they can't sit out for long huh?" He looks a little guilty, but you just wave your hand. 

"They need heat to keep from cracking so we usually throw them in the annealer to cool them down slowly, but the clear stuff can be recycled back into the tank on the next charging. Go ahead and grab another punty. And this time, we are gonna use some color."

Things go smoothly after that. By the end of their time slot, Sans has made over a dozen skulls in different colors and Papyrus has successfully completed one pumpkin. You were worried that he might be discouraged, but he was quick to refute the idea. 

"I Have Already Signed Up For Two Months Of Workshops In Order To Make Gifts Worthy Of My Greatness For This Gyftmas. I Will Simply Make More Next Time! I Am Sure With Yours And Human Emma's Help, I Will Be A Master In No Time!" There's slips of paper nearby, so you grab one and jot a few things down. 

"This is when the annealer will be down tomorrow, so you can come by any time after that to get your stuff. Below that is the annealer number and the section your stuff is in so no one else can claim it for themselves." You hand Papyrus the paper and he nods, tucking it away before engaging Emma in a conversation about future workshops and blown glass gifts. While you're moving through the motions of prepping for the next group, Sans approaches and clears his throat. 

"hey uh… i've got a question for you. " He fiddles with his phone, seeming nervous. You're beginning to wonder if he's just going to back out altogether before clears his throat and holds up the phone. When he makes a 'come hither' motion to the screen, a near-shattered piece of glassware flies into his hand. It's uniquely shaped and most likely scientific, if the precision and thinness is anything to go by. "would it be possible to make another one of these?" He holds out the piece and you gingerly take it, turning it from side to side. "needs to be exact, or as close as possible and the company i tried getting into contact with…. well let's just say they don't want business from someone like me." Your face scrunches up in disgust. 

"Fucking racists…. Well, we can certainly give it a try and if we can't make it exact, then I can be a middle-man for a company. Do you have pressure and temperature constraints?" His eyebrows raise at your question and he nods, giving you the details. You hand the piece back and type the numbers into your phone. "I'll do some research to see if we've got access to glass that can reach these parameters, but it should be doable. Just gotta use some tube and attach a few smaller ones… Tell you what. You hold onto that one and I'll get back to you after I do my research. If everything goes well, I can order some glass in and get to work. I'll also start the preliminary contact with a scientific glassblowing company to get an estimate in case doing it locally doesn't pan out. Do you just need the one?"

He's quiet for a moment before he groans. "should probably have more than one in case something else goes wrong…" 

You're curious, sure, but it's not your place to ask. "That's no problem, really. It's good skill building regardless." 

"heh. thanks kiddo. you're really doing me a favor here." There's something in his tone when he speaks, but you can't quite place it. 

"Hey, what're friends for? Besides, we can't let the racists win. And if we can do it without having to pay them at all, it'd be even better." He hits you with a searching look, eyes pausing briefly over your chest before he grins and nods, gaze flicking back to your face. 

"you must really believe in justice… makes you sound like a rebel." His gaze swings around the room, landing on Papyrus. "heh. 's weird havin' someone else mad for us instead of at us." You grunt and run a hand through your hair, drawing his attention. 

"I'm sorry humans are such dirt bags, but some of us do really care. Equality is important… and you can't just pick and choose. Ugh."

"i getcha kid. 's not your fault." 

You quirk your brow and point to yourself. "Yeah I guess…. Hey. you know I'm not a kid right? Feel free to call me by name or by Bee."

"ah, yeah. sorry ki- er…. bee. old habits and all that." Sans waves nonchalantly before stuffing his hands into his pockets. To his right, Papyrus signals that he's ready. "whelp. i guess we'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See you then. Bye!" You're waving all the way up until Papyrus disappears from sight, blocked by the teeming crowds of people. Immediately your shoulder slump and you feel a bit exhausted. Emma is nearby, finishing the setup you had forgotten during your conversation.

"You good Bee? We've still got three more slots today and they may not be your skeletons, but I'm sure they’ll still be fun." She sends you a wink and you flush. 

"Ah jeez Em, they're not my skeletons!" She chortles, shooting finger guns at you. 

"I know, but you're just so easy to tease."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be from Sans's side of things so we can get a view on what's happening there.


	6. The Lab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter that I'm not super happy with, COVID has been doing a number on my mental state. Hopefully things will get better.

As he returns home Saturday evening, Sans is struck with the realization that he isn't quite sure what to think of you. Sure, you seem nice on the surface, but plenty of humans have used that to their advantage before and he just can't shake the feeling that something like that might happen again. You'd been helpful at the gym during your first meeting, though Sans wasn't sure if that was just because it was a public space. After that, when you'd shown up at the workshop, he had been about ready to bolt.

You were stalking them, he had thought. Biding your time to attack. But no- when he'd CHECKed you, the text all but divulged your soul's color and intention. _Is willing to fight for the rights of the oppressed._ 'a JUSTICE soul.' He mused, 'and a bright one at that.' It was pretty obvious with how offended you had gotten on their behalf, but he still can't quite wrap his head around your investment in them.

Sure, Papyrus had a lovable personality and was overall just an ideal friend but him? Jeez, he couldn't even begin to recount the laundry list of reasons that he should be avoided… and yet there you were, trying to cheer him up and more than willing to help with his problems. An enigma for sure, one that he intended to research during your collaboration, if nothing else than for the safety of his brother… where was he anyways?

With some trepidation, Sans followed the sounds into the living room where Papyrus was animatedly recounting the details of the workshop to the edgier swapped version of themselves, Black and Mutt. "It Was Amazing! And There Are So Many Things You Can Do With Glass, Like Cups And Bowls And Knives." The shorter skeleton's head tilts slightly, indicating that he was listening, and perhaps even interested, as Papyrus continues. "But It Is Also Quite Dangerous! Of Course, The Great Papyrus Emerged Unscathed But Several Of The Other Humans Got Burnt. Apparently, Even The Best Of The Best Get Burnt Sometimes- At Least That's What Human Emma Said When She Showed Me Some Of Her Scars."

"That Hardly Seems Like A Hobby Worthy Of My Greatness." Black scoffs, turning his head away. "Nonetheless, I Can't Wait To See Your Pathetic Attempts So That I May Prove Myself To Be Superior."

Papyrus presses a hand to his chest, mildly affronted. "That's Not Very Nice Black. Besides, You Can't Be Superior If You've Never Done It Before."

Mutt bends down to whisper something in Black's ear and Sans tenses, moving in closer. " 's there a problem here?"

"Hardly," Black snorts, waving his hand. "We Were Just Leaving. If You Need Anything, Don't Bother Asking Us." And with that, he and Mutt disappear.

"Well That Was Certainly…. Interesting?"

Sans groans and shook his head. "ya don't gotta take shit from them bro. i'll talk with mutt later about black's attitude….. sides, you're the best there is."

"Nyeh Heh Heh! I Most Certainly Am!" He scoops Sans up for a tight hug before setting him down and rubbing his head. "I Will Go See How Edge Is Doing With Dinner!" He disappears around the corner and Sans is left to his thoughts, eyelights trailing over the interior of the hall.

The modern house that he, his brother, and their duplicates had been staying at boasted six bedrooms with five bathrooms and two half-bathrooms. Standing three stories high (with the third being a floor-to-ceiling glass attic), the house flaunted high ceilings that had Papyrus packing up his things before they had even signed the paperwork. Sans was happy, though, that they could find a place to match his brother's greatness.

The building sits on a property just over five acres that bordered the neighboring university. It sports two balconies and a four car garage on the front end of the house and a backyard that spans about two acres across; currently it was littered with Papyrus, Blue, Edge, and Black's training equipment. Papyrus had insisted on attending the gym to make friends that would then be able to come and use his own equipment and, while Sans was hesitant at first, his brother had assured him that making a workout buddy would be worth the trek. Besides, Papyrus had been willing to overlook Sans's lackluster performance on the dangerous obstacles in their own backyard if he would go to the gym and Sans was _more_ than happy to avoid the spikes.

Moving into the massive house had been odd at first, given that it was only Sans and his brother. Had it been his choice Sans would have just as soon chosen a small ranch-style abode and been done with it but Papyrus wanted the extra space to fuel his many hobbies. Sans couldn't complain though, especially once his brother agreed to let him set up a lab in the attic.

It was a perfect combination of observatory and research facility, certainly better than the secret room under the old shed underground. He was quick to fill it to the brim with refurbished equipment, saving money by repairing parts that were now so much more accessible above ground. The only thing it lacked, he had thought, was his father's machine, a staple of the previous lab. This was quickly rectified with a trip to the underground and, finally, Sans returned to his research.

They hadn't even been in the house for a month before Sans had made the mistake of turning on the machine, dragging the first set of duplicates through. The rest, as they say, is history.

Visiting the lab situated in the attic of the chalet is Sans's final duty for the night, as it has been every night since the accident. He reaches the apex of the staircase and taps in the code, stepping inside once the door slides open.

" 'ey classic." His gaze shoots to his counterpart, planted in front of the screens and occasionally tapping at the keyboard. Looks like Red's on duty tonight. 

He sighs, drawing his hand down the ridges of his face and begins padding towards the nearest window. "heya red. any news?"

"nah, seems like everythin' is nominal. no luck turnin' it off though…" Red's gaze slides over to the machine which, despite its haggard appearance, was still chugging along.

Sans nods and spares a glance at the machine. The damned thing hadn't turned off since dragging Red and his brother into this world, despite the increasingly desperate attempts. In fact, it worked better than anyone could have predicted- but instead of freeing their father from the void, it had keyed into Sans and Papyrus's own signatures and continued to pull them in with slowly increasing frequency.

Standing in front of the telescope situated in the window of the large room, Sans is reminded of some of the earlier debates that had occurred amongst the alternates. His counterparts challenged the location of the lab when they had first come through, believing him to be ridiculous. They were quick to suggest the seclusion of the basement instead, but Sans was adamant on the attic. If something were to go catastrophically wrong, he reasoned, he'd rather not collapse the rest of the house along with them. After all, an explosion only has one way to go: up. They were quick to drop it after that.

A thought occurs to him as he surveys the lab. "where's stretch?" He knew the swapped Papyrus tended to prefer working shifts in pairs and was notoriously difficult to remove from the lab.

"sent'm to his room after he feel 'sleep on the keyboard again." Despite his initial hesitancy around Stretch, Red had developed a soft spot for him that Sans could relate to.

" 's good to hear…." He sets a hand on the telescope forlornly before reluctantly returning to the computer desk. The swivel chair groans under his weight as he slides in and sidles up to the desktop. "yer bro is makin' dinner tonight."

Soft curses float over and Sans has to duck his head into the desk to hide his smile. "guess 'at means 'm grabbin' Grillby's tonight…" He shoots Sans a glance before porting out of the room, returning shortly with two paper bags spotted in grease. One he keeps for himself and the other flies towards Sans, stopping in mid-air with a blue glow around it. Carefully, Sans brings the bag closer and releases his magic.

"thanks red." The rest of their shift is shared in companionable silence, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machine.


	7. Chuck it in the Bucket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get some new visitors in the hot shop. 
> 
> I made this one longer to make up for how long the last one took.

The best part about Sundays, aside from a final reprieve before classes, is getting to see all of the cooled glass-work up close. After yesterday's workshop, you and Em had grabbed a three-hour slot for yourself to play around and you were excited to see what survived the cooldown. You check the clock: two hours until the annealer would be down to temp.

It was common practice to make sure a more experienced glassblower was the one to retrieve things from the annealer, as many times people who had done an earlier slot in the workshop had objects that were all the way at the back, yet they despite giving setting up times for each group to get their objects, theirs being last, they still felt the need to show up first thing and complain.

Already, you planned to arrive a bit early to facilitate the workshop attendees so that they wouldn’t get handsy with some of the more delicate objects. "Like bulls in a china shop" you mutter into your coffee, side-eyeing Pops.

Currently, she was face-down in her food bowl, snoring softly. Occasionally her little legs would dance, probably chasing a dream mouse if you had to guess, though you were honestly surprised your morning routine hadn't woken her.

"Busy night, huh lil bean?" You whisper, bending down and scratching her between her ears. She gives a good stretch before settling back down and you roll your eyes.

"Such a party animal…" You straighten up and grab the nearby coffee pot, topping off your cat-eared mug. Coffee in hand, you meander into the living room and set down on the couch before digging your sketchbook out of the blanket.

Most people were shocked to find out that, despite being an artist, drawing really wasn't your strong suit. Too many times can you recall explaining that yes, you were an artist but no, not a 2D artist… at least not most days. There were good ones of course, when the pencil flew across the paper and the product could be called "decent", but you were under no illusion. Most of the time, your sketchbooks were filled up with just that: sketches. Of objects you wanted to make, objects in the environment that inspired you, and occasionally little doodles to pass the time.

That's where you find yourself now, leaned back against the mountain of blankets you've been gifted since you passingly mentioned liking them. The doodles start more abstract but after a moment, you find yourself looking down into a couple of eye sockets and it takes an embarrassingly long time to figure out. You startle, smacking your hand down onto the paper and flushing. "Wat," You muse aloud, slowly peeling your hand away, "the hell?"

It's easy now to recognize the crudely rounded skull grinning back at you, sat down beside a brightly grinning, toothy smiled skull. You run a hand down your face and grumble. "Way to be a creep Y/N..." Luckily, this sketchbook doesn’t see the light of day very often so you close it up and tuck it under the couch before grabbing your bag and pulling out your laptop. "Whelp, this is a good a time as any to do a little research on that glass…"

You pull out your phone, checking and double-checking the parameters Sans had given you, before settling into a comfortable flow of checking glass suppliers and writing down the details; prices, shipping time, and parameters Sans hadn't mentioned like coefficient of expansion and such. It's a good way to pass the remaining hour before you have to get ready and go.

-

The glass building's entrance is blissfully vacant of crowds as you walk under the hot shop's front-facing ventilation. You take a moment to bask in the heat venting off of the building, relishing in the woody scent it carries before advancing onto the door.

There's an undergraduate student stationed at the front desk, likely to direct visitors. He looks up briefly as you enter, ready to explain the schedule for what must be the umpteenth time, but quickly cuts himself off with a smile and a wave. "Hey. Hope you're ready for an exciting morning." You give him a confused look- you haven't even set your things in your space for the day or found Em, you're in no mood for cryptic bull- that train of thought is quickly cut off as you startle from the loud bang behind you.

You turn around quickly and scan the hotshop. Through the thick demonstration window, you can see the skeletal back of Papyrus and it makes you involuntarily sigh, rubbing your temples. Even with two cups of coffee in your system, you aren't entirely prepared for the glorious ray of sunshine that is Papyrus and his boisterous- wait.

You backpedal and examine the scene again from a better angle. His signature grin is turned down at the corners and he looks… exasperated? Yeah, he looks exasperated with two newcomers- both skeletons, of course, one short and one tall. 'Jeez, how many of these guys even are there?' You swing the door open quickly and trot over to where Emma currently has her hands out between Papyrus and the new skeletons.

"Everything okay here?" In your periphery, Sans seems to relax, if only marginally, while you and Emma share the desperate look of two gays trapped at a family gathering.

"Bee! Oh good, I was just trying to explain to this…" Her eyes cut to one of the new skeletons, a short and angry looking number with a red bandana, "lovely visitor… that the glassware isn't quite cool yet. And aside from that, it isn't to be touched by anyone other than the maker-" her hand sweeps over to Papyrus, "unless cleared by the maker themselves."

"And I Most Certainly Do NOT Want You Touching Them, Black. You Will Break Them On Purpose, I Can See It In Your Eyes." Papyrus is at full height, arms crossed over his simple grey shirt, foot tapping impatiently while Black cuts his eyes to the side, hiding a smile with his hand.

"I can't Imagine What You Mean. I Simply Want To Admire The Craftsmanship Of The Work." He holds his gloved phalanges out and pretends to admire them.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head, suppressing a groan. "Look, Black is it?" He tilts his head slightly to acknowledge you but refuses to look in your direction. He's still pretending to examine his "nails" and it's beginning to piss you off.

"I'll be blunt with you here- I've told Papyrus and I'll tell you; everything in your first week looks like shit. Sometimes, longer than that." Everyone jumps slightly at your deadpan tone but you press forward anyways. "So if you're here to just dig at the big guy, then you're out of fuckin' luck because no one here's gonna put any merit to it."

Bee and Sans share a look; it's clear they regret letting you 'help' with the situation, but you're tired and not caffeinated enough for any bullying. As hard as you imagined it would be to read skeletal expressions, Black's is pretty obvious: he's pissed. And if his look could be described as pissed, then you couldn't even think of a word for the dark look his taller friend was shooting you. It sent shivers down your spine, but you held your ground. Black's sharp teeth finally part, ready to quip back, so you quickly raise your finger. 

"If you really want to judge his craftsmanship on week one then you'd better make your own attempt first so it's only fair- AND!" You raise a finger, cutting off his rebuttal, "And the signup sheet is outside at the front desk so you can join us as early as next Saturday." 

Silence. A moment stretches into nearly a minute before the smaller skeleton's sharp eyes narrow at you. "And Who Exactly Do You Think You Are To Tell Me What I Can And Cannot Do?" Behind him, the taller hoodie-bound skeleton (who, now that you're looking, seems oddly familiar) stands straight and lifts his head to stare you down- which isn't hard given your already abysmal 5'4" self. Beside you, Sans seems to be squaring up with the latter and you have to resist the urge to laugh.

"Well for one, I'm Y/N. My friend Emma and I facilitate this event for the school and, since you're on school grounds, we can have you banned for any physical altercations." You raise an eyebrow at his indignant scoff and continue. "And for two, only assholes degrade people when they're starting a new hobby that they haven't even tried themselves. So you've got three options here: shut up and sign up, leave willingly and admit you can't blow glass either, or try to hang around and be forcibly removed. And I assume, _lieutenant,_ that it wouldn't look good on your record to be removed."

His shock is readily apparent as he switches between looking at you, then Papyrus, Sans, and finally the taller skeleton behind him before sputtering. "You-What-How Does A Lowly Human Like Yourself Know Anything About My Magnificence?!"

It takes a formidable amount of self-control not to roll your eyes. "Observation, obviously." Your fingers tap the patch just barely obscured by the red of his scarf. In truth, you had taken a moment during his shocked silence earlier to give him and his companion a once over to check for weapons.

It was fairly apparent that he held rank with the royal guard given his regalia and, while most humans might not know the meaning behind the insignias emblazoned on his lapel, you were fairly well-versed. As for the reasoning behind why? Well… you're loathe to admit it, but commissions pay the bills and you don't really question what people do with them when they're done.

An internal debate is clearly taking place for Black as he crosses his arm and flicks his gaze around the room to the other members standing nearby. "I-You- " You raise your eyebrows, then wiggle them dramatically for effect and the corner of his grimace twitches upwards. "Tch. Fine." Black shoulder-checks you on his way out and you're quick to step closer to Sans and Papyrus before his taller friend can replicate.

"Oh thank god, I thought they were going to tear this place apart- well, the shorter one anyways." Emma throws her arms around you shoulders and squeezes you. "That was hella dangerous though Bee, you really shouldn't piss people like that off."

"Nah, he couldn't do anything without risking his position and from how clean his uniform was, you can tell it means something to him." She gives you a doubtful look so you elaborate. "My brother was in the military, remember? He used to get chewed out for even looking at anyone the wrong way when he was in civvies. In uniform? Forget about it."

"still, kid- bee, you really shouldn’t go around antagonizing black like that. trust me.." Sans runs a boney hand along the back of his skull and you roll your eyes.

"What My Brother Means To Say Is Thank You." Papyrus corrects, leaning in and scooping both Emma and you into a bear hug. "Even Though He's Family, Black Can Be A Handful, Especially With Mutt Behind Him. I Think You Handled His Pomp Fairly Well." He sets you both down and fluffs your hair with his silky red glove. 

"Mutt? You mean the tall guy that looks like uh… Stretch was it? The guy from the bar?" Emma directs this question to you and, far enough to the side to be out of your line of sight, Sans's eyelights extinguish. You perk up, snapping your fingers.

"Aha! Yeah, that's who he looks like! But like… way scarier. Pretty sure he wanted to rip my arm off and beat me with it." You look over towards the demonstration window and jump when you catch Mutt's eyes on you, eyebrow raised slightly. Quickly you angle yourself so your back is to the window. "Jesus, he can't like.. Read lips or anything can he? I don't wanna give him any ideas…"

Papyrus makes a noncommittal "mMm" accompanied by a shrug before turning towards the annealer and asking, in a much softer than usual tone, "Is It… Really Too Early To Pull Things Out?"

Your heartstrings tug and you glace at Emma for confirmation. It almost seems to physically hurt her when she whispers back "It's still at one eighty…" so you sigh and shake your head.

"Sorry Papyrus, it has to be much closer to a hundred degrees if you don't want anything breaking. Maybe…." You glance towards the other annealer, the one that has yours and Emma's stuff in it, and perk up. It should have been on a faster schedule since it didn't have to cool solid glass.

"Maybe you can look at our stuff with us until it's down? We'll need to do some coldworking so it's the perfect opportunity to teach you guys how to work the equipment." Gaze cutting over to Sans, you startle; he's stock still with no eyelights to speak of and you wonder briefly, with how quiet he's been, how long he has been like that. "Uh…. Sans?"

He snaps out of whatever mindscape he's been trapped in and nods, swallowing thickly (with no throat??) before responding. "uh, yeah. sure." You're tempted to ask if he actually heard anything you just said but you let it slide and instead head over to the annealer, dragging the step stool over. Emma takes her place at your side and holds her hands out expectantly.

You pop open the door and, to your delight, everything's still in one piece! First come Emma's pieces, a series of organic forms twisting like seaweed and standing at about two feet tall. They're in a variety of colors thanks to the extensive work with color bars and, occasionally, a splash of frit. With the gentlest of transfers, Emma takes each piece and lays it down on a padded cart for the transfer.

Then come your own pieces: small glass goblets with hollowed stems and blown feet. You're no Michael Schunke, but you're pretty proud of what you've made and aside from being perfectly functional, the best part is that they don’t require any cold-working. It doesn't hurt that they also sell for a pretty penny at the school's art sale.

As you're handing off the goblets to Emma, you hear a low whistle and whip your head around. "Damn, these are looking really good. " Brad, the glass professor for Ebott U, plucks the glass cup from Emma's hands and you hear her squeak of indignation. "You sure we can't convince you to come to the dark side? We've got cookies."

"I've had your annealer cookies before Brad and they're subpar. Maybe once you're on the level of the ceramics department's kiln-cooked pizza we can talk." It's a running joke in a couple of the apartments that, had you been introduced to their discipline first, you would have gone for your masters in it. Glass is one such area and Brad likes to remind you from time to time that the offer, jokingly, still stands. You grin and drop down from the steps, the last of your cups in one hand. It isn't as nice as the others so you're going to impress the importance of not saving every little thing onto Papyrus before it's too late.

"Well, can't win them all." He tilts his head to Papyrus and Sans. "Workshop attendees?" Emma nods. "Well I'll let you get back to it then. Just came to check on my kiln." He nods his head to the large kiln on the far wall, aptly named the coffin, and passes by the group.

Papyrus nudges himself closer to the cart, clearly fairly interested in your work, and Emma begins her thesis spiel about endangered ocean life and the importance of preserving it. From across the room, you hear the hot shop doors sling open and catch Black's smug grin as he struts towards your group. You tap Emma's arm, but it looks like she's too engrossed in it now to stop. Oh well, guess you'll run defense.

"Well, Human, It Seems You And I Will Be Seeing More Of Each Other Fairly Soon- I Have Signed On To Classes For The Next Two Months." He seems proud of himself, probably hoping to see you squirm and back down.

"Oh joy," You grin, albeit mirthlessly, and heft the cup in your hand. His eyelights cut down to it and he raises an eyebrow.

"I take it this is one of your pieces?"

"Ayep. This lil bean took an hour and a half to make cause I was trying something new." He opens his mouth to respond, probably about its uneven rim or the slight angle of the stem, maybe even the extra bit of glass stuck to the foot, but before he can get a word in, you take a step back, angle your body, and fastball the piece right into the nearby reclaim bin, shattering it instantly.

Sans and Papyrus let out a startled yelp- oof, you'd need to apologize to them later- but you were living for the look of absolute confusion on Black's face. "And, like most mildly imperfect things in glass, I get to chuck it in the 'fuck it bucket'. " You're grinning, but it falters slightly when Black begins shaking. At first, you're concerned- did you push him over the edge this time? But then, with a start, you realize he's _laughing_.

"Stars, I Never Imagined A Human Would Try A Power Move Like That On Me. Props For That I Suppose." His cheekbones are dusted a light violet and, shockingly, Mutt is doubled over in silent laughter behind him as well. 'Well hell, I guess it was a power move?' You think to yourself while witching between gawking at the two skeletons, but it doesn’t last long as Black gives you a very condescending pat on the head before sliding past your group, Mutt in tow. He's out the door before you can even form a coherent thought.

"Bee, hon, you okay?" You turn slightly and catch sight of Emma, her eyebrows wagging madly and you choke on air for a bit.

"I don't… know what just happened?" She's snickering, and you're floundering. "It just kind of happened! I really didn’t mean to flex on him, jeez." You run both hands down your face and peek through your fingers.   


Papyrus, who watched Black until he was out of sight, turns to you with the brightest grin you've seen. "I Think He Likes You!" Aaaand you're choking again, Emma's raucous laughter not helping in the slightest. "What? I Mean It. He Usually Doesn't Smile, And I've Never Seen Him Laugh- well, not in any friendly capacity anyways, But Nonetheless! I Think You Two Would Make Good Friends!" God, Papyrus's innocent optimism is killing you.

"I'm pretty sure I've embarrassed myself enough for one lifetime, but thank you Papyrus." He merely shrugs and, with Emma's approval, begins guiding the cart towards the door. You hang back a moment, trying to steel yourself. How much of an idiot could one person be in one day? It certainly felt like you were vying for the record.

"you doin' okay kid?" It seems Sans also chose to hang back, and you're grateful for the distraction.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it like… a threat or anything?" You shift awkwardly from foot to foot.   
  
"uh, i don’t think-snrk" his shoulders shake as he tries to control himself. "i don’t think anyone saw that as a real threat so you're uh… you're good. 'sides, he may be uh… 'family'… but he deserves to get taken down a few pegs if yanno what i mean. just don't make it a habit and we're good."

You nod, thoroughly relieved. "Can do. Oh! Here." You reach into your pocket and pull out the messily folded sheet of paper. "I did some research into the price and type of glasses that meet your parameters, but there's a few more things you'll want to check for on your end before we order it in. I also looked up the prices for specially customized scientific glassware and yikes? Especially in quantity?? So yeah, hopefully we can blow you something here. Just lemme know which one of those works cause their CoE's are wildly different and I assume that'd fuck things up pretty badly."

It's clear he's surprised by the sudden change of topic, or maybe your speed of delivery? You're not sure, but overall, he looks somewhat pleased. "y-yeah, i'll get right on that." He gives the paper a cursory glance before pocketing it.

"Great! Let's get back to your brother and Emma then before they're too far into the demo." He nods and you both exit the hotshop side by side.

As it turns out, they hadn't even made it to the cold shop. Emma had paused by her desk to drop things off it seemed and, from the way Papyrus was twitching and shifting his arms around, he was just as disturbed by the mess there as you were. He hid it well though, asking polite questions about the objects on the desk while subtly shifting some wrappers into the trashcan. You were quick to spare him by grabbing a throwaway piece of yours and heading into the cold shop, motioning to both skeletons. Emma nods to you, thankful to have a moment to herself.

You slide into the cold shop and grab an apron to keep yourself dry. "So as you guys have hopefully noticed, not all glass comes off the pipe or the punty as cleanly as you'd hope. For example." You hold up a small hot-sculpted skull with the sculpture punty, a small bit of glass used to attach it to the punty rod, sticking off at a jagged angle. "This little guy is sharp enough to cut through just about anything, and it'll make minced meat outta flesh if you're not careful." You eye their boney extremities and shrug. "Though I doubt you guys have to worry about that."

You lead them over to the wheel and explain the process of running the tap and keeping the wheel coated with grit, followed by detailing which machines run on what grits, as well as proper holding procedure. "So yeah, basically just keep a firm grip on it and make sure you know where the sharp bits are at all times. And most people go to at least 600 grit, but we've got options up to full polish that'll make it look like the extra bit was never there. Takes time though, and lots of patience. And remember, things break- it's no big deal. Just be gentle."

"The Great Papyrus Will Be Sure To Handle Things With Care, Human Bee!" Papyrus is bouncing animatedly in place and you have to cover your laugh with a cough- it's just too damn cute. You spare a glance towards the clock and break into a conspiratorial grin.

"Alright bone boys, you ready to see your stuff?"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" You smack your hands over your ears as Papyrus lets out a squeal of excitement, though Sans is quick to take pity on you and possibly also himself.

"c'mon bro, save the excitement for once you've actually seen the stuff." He nods in response, nearly vibrating with excitement. It's almost a race back into the hotshop and belatedly you realize Papyrus had slung Sans over his shoulder to speed things along.

"Okay, I'm gonna get them out and you're just going to calmly take them from me." You’re on the stool again, putting you at eye level with Papyrus, so you place your hands on his shoulders. "Nice and easy. And remember, you'll make better stuff in the future so you can hang on to stuff for now but I'd wait to cold-work until you have more to sort though."

"Of Course! I Will Only Keep The Best Of The Best! After All, A Gift From The Great Papyrus Must Be As Great As Myself!" With a nod of confirmation, you turn and open the annealer, scanning the boxes. It looks like a few others had been in to grab their pieces so it's fairly easy to spot the small collection of lumpy pumpkins and skull paperweights.

Tilting yourself into the annealer provides the extra reach you need to snag the corner of the box and tug it forward. From there, you gently hand Papyrus his pieces; there's four in total, though only one has a proper stem on it. He's quick to set them down on the marver and kneel to look at them, eyes filled with awe.

"They're…. So small and precious… and I made them…"

You merely smile and nod before setting the two clear skull paperweights into Sans' hands. Gingerly, he lifts them up to the light, then down towards the floor before splitting into a huge grin.

"heh, they're actually pretty cool." He shuffles over to Papyrus and holds them out, disclosing a bit more pride in them than you had initially suspected. The brothers quietly discuss their pieces and you're content to watch on, trying to imagine Papyrus's delight when he finally makes his first full colored pumpkin. The thought gives you a fond feeling in your chest.

"thanks for your help today bee. i'll get back to you on the project once i've got more data." Sans pats his pocket and then waves before turning. With some reluctance, you bid both brothers goodbye, promising to see Papyrus at the gym on Wednesday. He very strongly implies that he'll be there Monday too, 'If You're Free. No Pressure Of Course' but you wave him off. If anything, you remark, you'll do a walk up your favorite trail; you don't think you'd survive exercising three days a week at Papyrus's speed, but you'd never let him know that. He begrudgingly accepts this and then he and Sans disappear out the door.


	8. The Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a text and then go for a long walk with friends.
> 
> I request watching this video: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/608689705876828839/  
> before reading the chapter, as it is featured down below. I think it's my favorite on the internet currently.

It's Monday, just after five o-clock when it happens. The text is nondescript, coming from an unknown number and containing only four words. Yet, for some reason, it fills you with an indescribable amount of dread. You read over the words again- 'we need to talk' - and let out a soft whine.

"What did I even do??"

Fifteen minutes of indecisiveness pass during which you consider blocking the number, getting a new phone, and finally, changing your name and moving to another country. You're still trying to dredge through your memories of who you could have pissed off that could have access to your number when you finally type out your reply.

You: Uh, who is this?? Wrong number, maybe?

It takes several nerve-wracking minutes, but finally, a response.

Unknown: wat

Unknown: what do you mean who?

Unknown: wait

Unknown: i never gave you my number did i? shit

Unknown: it's sans by the way

You focus all of your energy on not yeeting your phone, giving an exasperated sigh- of course it was- before adding him to your contacts.

You: Holy hell dude, I thought you were some psycho or someone that was really pissed at me.

You: You aren't, right?

You: Pissed at me, that is. I know you're not a psycho.

Sans: how do you know that? i mean 'm not but still

You: Dude, you're way too lazy to bother. Also I could take you.

There's no dignity left, I've seen you try to touch those toes.

Sans: fair but ouch. it's just not _bent_ to be

You: You should be ashamed of yourself for that.

Sans: nah that's one of the better ones

Sans: anyways i looked at all the numbers and…

Sans: quartz glass

Sans: i think that’s the best choice

You're thrown for a moment before you remember- right, the scientific glassware! You'd told him to figure out which type worked best for his needs so you could put the order in.

You: Oh nice. I'm assuming you needed the higher melt temp then?

Sans: yeah

Sans: the coils tend to get pretty hot

You: Gotcha. I'll check online

You grab your laptop and pull up the website, scanning the details and clicking into the quartz glass tubing section.

You: Hey, it was inner diameter of 3 mm and outer of 6 for the small right?

You: Then expanding into 5mm ID and 8mm OD?

Sans: yeah

Sans: finished coil diameter should be about 3in

Sans: so you know how much to get

You: Luckily, I can ask the professor to order it for the glassblowing class and buy some off him.

You: He said it'd be ok, so I'm having him get lots of the 48in segments. They should be in by Thursday.

Sans: cool

Sans: do you mind if i come watch?  
Sans: not that i don’t trust you

Sans: i'm just curious

You: Yeah dude no problem. Torchwork is super different from hotshop stuff.

Sans: nice

Sans: sorry to bother you

You: Nah, I'm free after 5 on Mondays. All I have left is my weekly walk.

Sans: you want company?

You: . . .

You: Papyrus is trying to drag you to the gym with him, isn't he?

Sans: uh

Sans: no?

Sans: . . .

Sans: ok yes.

Sans: but when you aren't there he makes me actually… work out. 

A not-so-quiet snort escapes you and you're grinning ear to ear. He's surprisingly squishy for being made of bone. Absently though, you wonder just how often Papyrus goes to the gym and drags Sans with him.

You: You make it sound like torture.

Sans: well at least you have some precedent for this stuff

Sans: dunno if you've noticed but eh…

Sans: 'm not the most fit skeleton

You: I'm shocked.

Sans: har dee har

Sans: but really. show some mercy?

You: Fine fine. Tell him you plan to go for a walk.

You: Wouldn't he want to come along though?

  
Sans: nah he's showing our cousin blue around the place today

Sans: you'll probably meet him wednesday

You: do you just like… have auto capitalization off or do you go back and fix every word??

Sans: huh?

Sans: oh, idk it just does it on its own

You're both horrified and intrigued by the prospect but that's besides the point. You throw a quick glance off towards the clock and it reads a quarter till 6. You don't want to be out in the dark, so you figure it'd be best to get going soon. Tucking your phone under your arm, you climb the stairs into the bedroom and search for something suitable to wear. It's a bit cooler than you'd like, so with a snicker, you throw on your blue hoodie and some sneakers before trotting down to the front door and shooting a quick text.

You: Alright. Meet me in 15 at Ebott Trail?

Sans: sure

Sans: see ya

Nodding to yourself, you tuck the device into the side pocket of your workout capris (you won't buy the ones without them now, it's just too convenient), grab a water bottle, then slide your lanyard over your neck and head out the door.

-

Ebott Trail, tucked along the north face of the mountain (the side closest to the actual city of Ebott) and a convenient fifteen minute walk from your outskirts apartment, is not just a single trail. In fact, it's a park with a series of different paths ranked by difficulty in a list of colors and the sign by the front entrance has a detailed schematic of every route. You scan through the choices and narrow it down pretty quickly.

"I can't imagine he'd want to do anything over ten miles, plus it's pretty late in the day… Maybe orange trail?" Finger tracing the line on the map, you check the stats. "Nah, too elevated. Even I'd get winded at the speed we'd have to go before sundown. Okay, so that leaves… yellow and blue." You check both and come to the conclusion that blue would probably be the best.

With that out of the way, you head over to the nearby entrance, a covered bridge that marks the trailhead, and lean over the railing. Nature must be on your side today because the weather is prefect; not to breezy and only a few stray clouds obscuring the mid-afternoon sky. The water below the bridge is little more than a creek during the fall, but the sound is soothing nonetheless. So soothing, in fact, that you don't hear the approaching figures.

"oh hey, you're the human from the bar."

You inhale too quickly and choke on spit, all but hacking up a lung while tying to compose yourself. When you turn around, Stretch and Sans are standing side by side near the bridge's entrance, looking mildly confused.

" _tibia_ -nest, i was not expecting that kinda greeting, bee."

"yeah hon, i didn't think I'd _creek_ you out that bad. probably should've made more noise though… "

Sans approaches and you wave your hand, vacating the last of the liquid from your throat and wiping your mouth.

  
"Y-you're good, I just wasn’t -hack- expecting anyone besides Sans?" Your eyes flick from Sans to Stretch and he shifts awkwardly before waving. 

"ah, damn. i knew i was forgetting something…." Sans pulls out his phone, clicks for a bit, then rolls his eyes and taps it before tucking it away. Your own phone responds shortly after and, when you glance at it-

Sans: hope it's ok but 'm savin' my cousin from his bro too

"Ah, that would've been helpful two minutes ago. Or you know, fifteen when I sent the last text." You're irked, sure, but it fades pretty quickly with the guilty look on Sans's face. Hell, even Stretch looks a bit guilty and he was just in the dark as you were.

"yeah, i really thought i'd hit send… uh, anyways you two know each other right?"

"Kinda? I've only seen him once and uh… he's kind of the first skeleton I'd met?" Despite your best intentions, just the mere reminder of your previous embarrassment has your face heating up. Stretch grins, absolutely living for your embarrassment.

" th' offer still stands- you know, if you've got any questions." He winks and you sputter, yanking your hood up and around your face.

"I was just a little star-struck okay?!? Skeletons are really cool!" 'Shut up, shut up, shut up!' You can feel yourself digging the hole deeper but your mouth just can’t seem to stop trying to justify it. Jesus, you really hope that they aren't weirded out by your platonic admiration of bones.

"uh- wat?" It's clear Sans is out of the loop by the tone of his voice. You can only imagine the face he's making at Stretch as he's briefly recounted with your interaction at the bar. At least Stretch was kind enough to leave out your mini-rant, you'll have to thank him later after you smack him for bringing it up in the first place.

"don' worry hun, we don't take offense to it 'cause your intentions 're obviously not malicious."

Drawing back the edge of the hood, you peek at Stretch and he seems to be pretty honest with his statement. Slowly, as your blush bleeds out, you lower the hood. "Good lord no- have people tried to be malicious about it? Are you in danger??" You're trying to find the right phrasing for 'has anyone tried stealing your bones' when Sans's laughter shocks you out of your reverie.

"stars kid, you're really somethin'. nah, we can take care of ourselves." While you're not inclined to believe that from someone who startles at loud noises like a kitten, there's something in his tone that rings true. "anyways… 've got a question for ya."

You make an inquisitive noise, turning your full attention to him. "What's up?"

"well, we were kinda hopin' you'd provide photo evidence so they don't think we just staged it?" Sans holds up his phone and you grimace but nod.

"I mean sure. If your two brothers are anything alike, I can't imagine what their proffered workout regimen is when they're together. Hell, I was sore after just one Papyrus-brand workout." Both skeletons nod vigorously and share about equal looks of discomfort and remembered pain.

"heh, yeah. it's… a lot, but they're really cool dudes." Stretch slides closer to you and leans back on the railing while Sans turns the camera sideways. You panic, momentarily, but then shift into an awkward pose with one hand lifted in a peace sign, smile just a bit tight. You can see Sans's eyes flick up to you over the phone but luckily he doesn't ask. After the camera shutters, you drop your hand and then bring both hands up to ruffle your short hair.

"So, trail. I assumed you," you swing a finger up to Sans and he jumps a little, "wouldn't want to do anything so strenuous so I chose the blue trail. I'm uh… gonna assume that's ok with you too?" Your attention shifts to Stretch and he visibly slumps.

"yes, thank god. i was worried- uh, not that you would do anything like that- er, not saying that you can't do harder trails, just that I'm glad you didn’t. you know, pick a hard one." You can almost hear the choir of angels singing: finally, someone as awkward with words as you.

"You're good, this is my off day anyways, so I don't do more than six miles round trip and I try to only walk. There's a couple spots where the incline can be a bit harder but honestly, it' pretty flat. More like we're going up a bit and then around the circumference of the mountain than actually going straight up." Both skeletons share a look of relief and you struggle not to laugh. "Maybe if you keep walking Mondays, we can upgrade to the seven mile round trip?"

"hhhrgh, i dunno… an extra half mile up _and_ down?"

"Oh come on Sans, I bet Papyrus would be so proud if you slowly increased the increment." You motion to the boys to start moving because its's an hour both ways and if you don't start now, you won't make it back before the sunset. While you at least know and somewhat trust Sans, you don't know Stretch at all and would be very hesitant to be trapped in the dark on a mountain with him. Or, well.. Anyone really. Being trapped in the dark is just bad news overall.

"heh, you're not wrong. He's been trying to get me to go along with his night jogs but uh, i usually dip out." Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his head and casts his eyes down.

"well it can't be worse than blue's twenty-mile morning jog, i promise."

Your head whips to Stretch so fast, you're half worried you pulled something. "I'm sorry, wat??"

He laughs, shrugging nonchalantly. "yeah my bro is pretty cool but uh, sometimes he overestimates how much i can do." Trying to imagine anyone doing a 20-mile jog in the morning is painful enough, but these guys? They hardly look like they'd make it three at a reasonable pace.

"Jeez, no wonder you're hiding out here. Five miles running is my top before I'm a sweaty mess. Wait, you don't think they're gonna try that on me are they? ARE THEY??" Panic fills your chest and you grab Sans's shoulders and shake softly. "I'm too young to die of exercise."

"mh, my guess is they'll go easy on you. paps really seems to enjoy your company. besides, it's better you take our place." He quickly disengages and pats your head, not unlike how Black did the day before, and sidesteps you to continue along the path.

"I'm starting to feel a bit like an athletic scapegoat here?" You say to no one in particular before continuing after them.

"hey uh, so i've been meaning to ask…" It's hard to miss the way Stretch's eye lights give you a once-over before cutting to Sans. "are you two like.. together or something? Or did I just miss the fashion memo?" Sans snorts and you sputter to a halt, flick your eyes down to yourself donned in your blue zip up hoodie, and raise your hands in defense.

"Wh- it was supposed to be a joke!! It's what I was wearing when we met at the gym and I didn't know anyone else would be here to misconstrue it!!" There's only so much embarrassment one can take in a day- you're pretty sure you've already far exceeded it- and you've still got the whole walk ahead of you.

"oh, my bad then. wasn't sure if you both like... planned it? you know cause, uh, blue trail?"

"It was between yellow and blue trail actually, but I chose blue because it was a little bit easier and also because it's my favorite color." He just shrugs in response and, though you do catch a weird look he and Sans share, they don't outright say anything else on the subject.

The hour spent walking up the trail is filled mostly with idle chatter and abstract scientific facts which devolve into increasingly exaggerated and frankly fraudulent information as you all try to one-up each other. When the group reaches the turnaround point, it's marked by a sign indicating that intentions to travel farther will result in merging onto another color path and ending up at the opposite entrance to the park so you collectively decide that a small break before heading back down is in order.

There's a set of smooth rocks here to rest on so you choose one and plop down. Despite the relatively easy incline, you're still quite thirsty so you pull out your water bottle and take several gulps, surveying the area and, subtly, your company.

It seems they've both come prepared with bottles of their own, stored in dimensional boxes on their phones. You're a bit jealous, but you understand why monsters have chosen to keep so much of their technology in-house. It's a great bargaining chip to keep the government from overturning their own laws on monster equality and also in maintaining peace during most day-to-day interactions. After all, it's like telling a kid what they _might_ get for Christmas if they're good: effective, but in a pacifistic sort of way.

You're momentarily lost in thought when you hear a phone ping- it's yours, so you check and respond quickly. Emma is responding in righteous fury to the plethora of unanswered texts- oops, you probably should have let her know where you were going and that reception might be spotty. A quick text to let her know you're okay is followed by an explanation of where you're at. Belatedly, you mention that Sans is here too but avoid mentioning Stretch so she can't embarrass you for it later. There's a lull before you receive another text - this one in all caps- followed by a… link?

Emma: YOU HAVE TO SHOW THIS TO HIM!!

Emma: <https://www.pinterest.com/pin/608689705876828839/>

You're reluctant to click on the link, especially if the video is targeted directly at Sans while he's in your presence. You'd like to think Emma is a pure soul, but she's been known to play a few pranks on you. Better safe than sorry…

You: It's not NSFW right?

Emma: Oh GODS no, it's pun-based, don't worry.

"Hey Sans." You call out, albeit hesitantly. He'd been side-eyeing you throughout the exchange so he's quick to respond.

"yea?"

"Emma sent us a video clip to watch. Or well.. You, but she doesn’t have your number. She said it was pun-based and she's got a halfway decent sense of humor so it could be good? Sorry, I know it's bothersome but she'll want to know how you reacted..." Rubbing the back of your head, your free hand makes a 'come hither' motion and you click the link to- oh lord…. It's a skeleton.

Sans's expression schools into careful complacency and you're almost certain he's expecting something racist. Stretch picks up on this and slides over behind your group, squishing his head in-between both of yours. Whelp, you've already dug the hole this far, might as well click play.

_"I have a joke for you."_

_"What?"_

_  
"What is a skeleton's favorite snack?"_

You vaguely hear Sans mutter 'ribs' followed closely by Stretch's sarcastic 'honey'.

Once it's pretty clear the video's not blatantly racist, both skeletons seem to relax and even enjoy it. What starts off as soft chuckling easily devolves into heavy giggles and, when you absolutely lose it at 'WHY MUST YOU FAIL ME SO OFTEN?!', Sans has to take the phone to steady it. You squat down and press your palms into you eye sockets before looking back up. Through your tears, you can see him beaming and his eyes are practically spinning stars- no, wait. They actually have developed into five-pointed stars. Weird. The video ends and you're still struggling to breathe.

"holy shit, that was amazing." A few clicks on your phone and Sans's own pings. "hope you don't mind but i forwarded that to myself. man, red's gonna love this…" he sets your phone on the ground beside your still recovering form and, at Stretch's insistence, sends the video to him as well.

"Emma really knows how to find the good stuff." It's difficult to stand, but you manage it after swiping your phone off the ground. You catch the tail end of Sans explaining who Emma is before he responds.

"tell 'er it was a real _rib-tickler_."

If resisting the urge to roll your eyes was an Olympic sport, you're sure you'd have won gold by now. "I'll be sure to let her know." You leave a like before exiting to the text and letting Emma know she had done good. She's clearly living for the attention, if her texts are any indicator.

"Well that was a good little break but uh…" Checking the clock and then the sky you continue. "If we don't get back at it soon, it'll be too dark to see and 'm not a big fan of walking in the dark."

Sans merely waves his hand. " 's fine, we've got flashlights." You grumble, thinking of the fifteen minute walk back to the apartment with only a phone light, but sigh nonetheless. The walk clearly took more out of them than they're letting on so you're willing to give them the extra time. Sans side-eyes you and frowns.

"you afraid of _spooky skeletons_ in the dark, bee?"

"Nah just…. Eh, it's nothing. I'll worry about it later." He seems hesitant to let it go but eventually caves under your despondent stare. With some insistent (possibly bordering naggy) insistence, you manage to get the two back onto the trail in under fifteen minutes. It's quiet for a bit before Stretch speaks up.

"hey i've been meanin' to ask, why do you call 'em bee?" He's directed the question at Sans, who glances over to him and shrugs.

" 's what their friend calls 'em and what they said to call 'em, right?"

"Yeah, Emma wanted a nickname so it'd be easier than trying to explain the they/them in conversation with other non-binaries and it's shorter than my actual name. Plus, my name is kinda… hetero-normative? And I don't really like it that much. Just works out better overall to go by Bee.."

"heh, that's fair. nicknames can really help in that kinda situation." He side-eyes Sans before continuing. "so would it be ok if I called ya _honeybee_?" It's accompanied by a wink.

"I mean, sure. You're always calling me hon anyways and I'm assuming that's short for honey? Cause you mentioned that earlier as your favorite food during the video- uh unless that was a joke as well…?" It takes a moment before you recognize that Stretch was undoubtedly trying to flirt, if his dejected expression and Sans's knowing laughter are anything to go by. You cough and awkwardly smile. "I mean, yeah, that'd be nice." They both look surprised, and Stretch beams back.

"cool." he tugs out his phone, taps away for a moment, then hands it over to you. "then could I get your number? jus' in case you're _feelin bonely_ or uh… your friend finds any more of those videos?" After a moment of shock, you take the phone and type in your number. Honestly, you think it would be really fun texting with Stretch if it's anything like hanging out with him. You vaguely hear Sans grumble something about 'Papyrus traits' before he claps his hands together, spooking you into throwing the phone. Luckily, Stretch has pretty good reflexes and catches it with relative ease.

"we should really pick up the pace if we wanna get back in time for dinner. 'm sure blue would be pretty upset if we missed." He slides in between you both, putting more space there before continuing on the path and shooting a backward glance.

"Jeez, what's his problem?" Grumbling, you softly apologize to Stretch, but he just waves it off before sending you a text.

The trip down is significantly more uncomfortable than the trip up and you're almost relieved when you see the sign marking the front entrance.

"Whelp, this has been fun guys but I gotta get going. Talk to you later!" You wave to both skeletons before dashing off into the fading light hoping that, if you're quick, only the last leg of the journey will be pitch black.

Almost as soon as you disappear out of sight, Stretch quickly turns and shoves his alternate. "the hell dude?"

"what do you mean 'the hell'? you know you can't get close to anyone once they know about the rest of us. what am i gonna say to 'em when you just up and disappear?"

"that doesn't give you the right to make those decisions for me! And besides, what if the machine doesn't get fixed? you're just gonna keep everyone isolated till we find out?"

"oh come on stretch, 's not like you can't make friends."

"right, just no emotional attachments. perfectly easy." Oozing with contempt, Stretch pushes past Sans and disappears in a small blip of orange light, but not before flashing him the bird.

" 's for your own good…. and theirs." Sans sighs and rubs his temples. He feels as though he's had this conversation a hundred times by now, but with his swapped counterpart it never seems to stick. "guess he really did get stuck with some of paps's yearnin' for companionship." Casting one last look at the sidewalk where you disappeared, Sans shakes his head and then teleports home.


	9. Feelin Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burger night sure is busier this time around. 
> 
> TW some mild violence at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a very rough week and apparently I am prone to accidents because I sprained my wrist rollerblading and then proceeded to get rope burn on both legs from a friend's dog's leash. Regardless, here is an update! It's a cliffhanger, but don't worry. Reader is strong and skeleton friends have vengeance streaks a mile wide.

"BURGER NIGHTTT!!!" Sam bellows, smacking his chest like a gorilla. He's echoed by Nate and Emma, while you and Jenna are actively faking like you don't know them. It's Wednesday again, which means that at exactly 3:45pm on the dot, you had been nearly dragged from your studio to head downtown. This time, nearly the entire group is along for the ride.

The five of you make quite the scene, parading down the strip to Grillby's in a wide array of studio attire. You have a tee-shirt with one too many holes in it, a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, and your trusty duffle tucked under your arm for the gym later. A fine layer of metal dust and sweat coats you and, had it been with any other group, you'd probably be a bit self-conscious.

As it stands, having Sam coated head-to-toe in red clay dust and Emma sporting a shirt with enough burn holes to mimic swiss cheese is enough to put your mind at ease. Nate and Jenna's grime is more hidden, displayed in discolored spots on their clothes and scuffed up patches, but they're team players all the same.

"Thank God mid-terms are done." Nate grumbles, sliding his arm around Emma's waist and pulling her into his side.

"Yeah, that critique yesterday about killed me!" With a feigned swoop, Jenna drapes herself over a nearby bike rack.

"Eugh, tell me about it. At least you guys still have a year or two left to recover." You shake your had emphatically. The normally 3 hour critique stretched into four and a half before anyone was allowed to leave. The professors had been particularly intense on yourself and Lynn, being that it was your second to last semester, which is why she had decided against coming tonight.

You had half a mind to cancel for a mental RnR as well, but since you couldn't find it in yourself to cancel on Papyrus after not joining him Monday, here you were. It certainly didn't also have anything to do with the fact that Stretch had sent you a text asking when you'd be there- nope! And it wasn't a date, you reassured yourself. It was just friends casually meeting up to talk and get to know one another better. Maybe one day though…

"I just want to say that I'm really proud of where everyone is right now- I think we're all doing great!!" Ever the positive one, Emma is quick to spread her praise and it seems to ease some of the tension. Nate bends down and presses a kiss to her cheek, which she sputters under before returning one to his nose.

They share a soft laugh and you mentally thank the others for coming along this time: third-wheeling can only be fun for so long before it just gets exhausting and, while you're not intentionally a jealous person, the soft moments leave an ache in your chest that you can only hope will one day be filled.

"I can't wait to get wasted tonight. I wanna drink until I can't feel feelings!" Sam's goofy grin is infectious and elicits a round of cheers and agreements.

"Alright alright, just remember your limits and to have a walking buddy!" You point specifically at Sam and Jenna, since Nate and Emma live together and you won't be drinking. A chorus of 'yes mom's has you rolling your eyes as you step ahead of the group and swing open the door for everyone else.

The group filters into the bar and directly over to the farthest round booth which your group has affectionately dubbed the "hot spot". When told, Grillby had given your group the most exasperated look he could manage before disappearing through the fire exit into the kitchen. It still brings a smile to your face and you wave at said bartender before joining the group.

You take your seat on the outermost right side of the booth and check your phone- Stretch said he'd be here around 5:30, which gives you an hour and a half to eat and talk with your friends and a half hour to talk to Stretch before you head over to the gym. Since the gym is only a five minute walk, you mull over the idea of asking Stretch to join you, if only to ask him more about his brother before meeting him. You're still staring intently at the phone when a voice startles you.

"Is he meeting you here tonight?" Emma calls cryptically, wiggling her eyebrows as every other head snaps to you.

"Hold up, is Bee seeing someone?" Sam wolf-whistles, igniting your instinct to smack. Beside him, Jenna seems just as intrigued but comes off far more polite.

"Are we getting in the way of anything?"

"No, no, everything is fine. Jeez Emma! It's just a friend coming to say hey. He's a regular here too from what I heard so he'd be here anyways."

"Oh, so he's a monster then?" Nate looks between Emma and you, but it's clear that Emma was fishing for info and probably just got what she wanted- damn.

"It's Stretch, okay? You guys met him here last time." You point between Emma and Nate for clarification." But the rest of you, don't make it weird, seriously. I'll leave if you do!" While others may have tried to call it a bluff, your friends know you too well by now. And luckily for you, that means you won't be launching yourself out any windows today.

"Ok ok we'll leave it alone- BUT! I expect full details, either by text or during lunch tomorrow." You nod, mentally scheduling yourself for that conversation with Emma and, if your powers of perception are as strong as you hope, probably everyone else present.

"Look I know your lives are probably boring now that midterms have passed but that doesn’t mean you get to poke into my life." You stick out your tongue but a smile pulls at your lips regardless. Knowing them, they're probably just worried about your safety and really you cant blame them. You've never had the best luck with relationships since most people would try to push the dating stage too quickly. You needed time to get to know them before you could even begin to discern whether your feelings were romantic or platonic.

Fuku appears near the table now that everyone is settled in, greeting you all by name and calling out everyone's regular orders (with only a few modifications- after all, you can't eat the same type of burger EVERY time) before heading behind the bar. She and Grillby exchange a few words and a slip of paper before she heads into the back and Grillby begins mixing drinks.

The first round of drinks arrives, followed not two minutes later by the second, and you're somewhat concerned for your friends as they place orders for thirds. You're quick to remind them about limits, and maybe waiting until after they've had something to eat, to which they all respond with the typical chorus of sarcasm. Hey, they can jokingly call you mom any day if they'll stop making you worry senseless about their own self-care. You sip at your water and listen to the conversation. It's currently split into two parts as Emma and Jenna talk while you, Nate, and Sam trade conspiracy theories.

Damn, too much water in preparation for the gym leaves you needing to relieve yourself, but everyone seems so invested in the conversation and you don't want anyone to call attention to you leaving. You're trying to find a way to politely disengage from the conversation when Sam stands up abruptly and excuses himself to the restroom, claiming too many drinks in such a short time. Well, never mind social anxiety then. You excuse yourself shortly thereafter and head around the corner and into the hallway containing two unisex stalls- both kept impeccably clean by a combination of Grillby's diligence and the overall lack of human customers. You jiggle the first knob experimentally and find it locked- of course.

As you're headed to the next door though, you feel a thin hand slip around your waist and another over your mouth, covering your startled scream. Sharp nails bite into the soft flesh near your navel as you're hauled backwards. Before you know it, you're outside the back door of Grillby's, stumbling to catch yourself as your attacker releases you. Panic wells up inside you and you're dredging up every self-defense move you can remember when you turn- and pause.

"Mutt?? What the hell???" Honestly, you would have been less surprised to see Satan himself; what could Mutt possibly have to say to you that he needed to literally drag you into a dank, dark alley for? Well actually, you spare a glance around.

The alley itself is deep but well lit and situated perpendicular to a side road with very little traffic. It seems only Grillby's and the adjacent insurance building share this alleyway, which would explain why it's so clean, and also the lack of foot traffic. You had seen Grillby outright incinerate his garbage at the end of the night so you imagine the dumpsters nearby are largely unused.

You flick your eyes back up to Mutt- right, more pressing matters. He seems to be watching you, for what you don't know, but it's beginning to unnerve you. He's perched on top of one of the dumpsters, seemingly giving you space, but you get the impression that if you tried to leave he'd be on you in a heartbeat. In his right hand is a half-finished cigarette, the remnants of which he's ashing into the dumpster. 'At least he's polite enough for that…' With the hood of his ragged jacket pulled up, he could easily be mistaken for a bum.

"Well??" He finally flicks his eyes up to yours, hopping off the dumpster before pulling the finished cigarette out of his mouth and crushing it underfoot. You gulp and take a step back- he's certainly more intimidating when he's standing upright.

"what's your plan here?" His eyelights flick down to your chest and then back up- distantly, you remember Stretch (and maybe even Sans at one point?) doing the same motion. You're curious about what he's doing but you imagine he's not in the mood for inane questions. 

"I don't understand what you mean. Could you elaborate?" The response is measured, careful. The last thing you want to do is anger him in an alley where your body wouldn’t be found until tomorrow morning at best andohgodnowyou'repanicking-

"yanno what i mean, don' play dumb. is it blackmail? Are you working with others?" It takes a moment to process his words but once you do? You're pretty confused.

"Uh look, I think you're giving me more credit than I deserve. Blackmail? Is that supposed to be a pun off your brother's name or something? Cause if not, I'm really not sure what you're saying. I don't have any issues with you or Black, really."

It's clear he's frustrated, casting agitated glances all around the alley before settling back on you. He squints a bit at your chest before huffing incredulously.

"ya really don' know?"

You're emotionally exhausted, fear waning into annoyance. What is he even accusing you of?

"Look I may act like I've got my shit together but I can barely keep track of what day of the week it is man. Please just have mercy and explain what it is I've apparently done wrong so I can fix it."

"…" He searches your face for any hints of deceit before his shoulders relax and he even cracks a grin. "nah, 's nothin'."

"Nothing." It's your turn to be incredulous now. "Let me get this straight. You dragged me into an alley and scared me half to death for nothing??" You're shaking, unable to determine if you'd rather scream or cry at the moment.

"ayep" The little shitlord grins and, before you can question him more, disappears in a soft puff of lilac.

"Wh- how- that bitch." God how you wish there was something breakable in the alley- you want to rage. Unfortunately, the best you can manage is stuffing your face into your hands and screaming until you can't breathe. Once that's accomplished, you take stock of your injuries- a few pinprick holes along your stomach with matching tears in your tee-shirt and a tender bit of flesh that may well develop into a bruise, great. 'At least', you muse, 'I'm already wearing the shirt with all the holes in it rather than a nice one.'

Satisfied that you're not going to freak your friends out, you check the door- yes! It's unlocked, so you head in and do your business in the bathroom. After washing your hands, you take a moment to splash cool water on your face, relieving a bit of the remaining redness. When you return to the table, the drinks and food have already arrived.

"You okay Bee?" Ever observant, Emma is the first to pick up on your discomfort. You fake a smile and wave your hand dismissively.

"I'm good, just feeling a bit off. Probably should've had breakfast is all." She nudges your water into your hand and you gladly accept. After several generous gulps, you're able to calm down and slip back into the easy ebb and flow of the conversation.

Other than the burger being a bit colder than you'd like, everything else is as it should be and when the door's bell rings almost an hour later, you've all but forgotten the incident.

Stretch walks in, alone this time, and pauses by the door to scanning the room. He catches your eye and tilts his head towards the bar before heading there himself.

"Uh- well I guess this is where I part with you guys." You sidle out of the booth, but not before Jenna latches onto your arm. Her eyes flick between you and Stretch.

"Just be careful, alright? And shout if you need anything. Seriously." She emphasizes the last word before letting go.

"Yeah, of course. I'm always safe." Which, of course, is a blatant lie that you're not likely to admit to in front of any of your friends soon so you pull away from the group and head to the bar.

"Hey." The barstool is cold compared to the booth, but the proximity to Grillby's heat chases away any discomfort. You settle in and angle yourself towards Stretch, hoping to facilitate better conversation.

" 'sup? it looked like you were havin' fun over there. that what the group normally looks like?" He's turned slightly on the stool, one arm propped on the bar with his head resting atop it. His small orange eye lights flicker over each member of the group and you almost want to reprimand him for staring… but upon closer inspection, he's just giving back the attention he's clearly getting. You spin on the group and give them a stern glare; only Nate has the decency to look guilty, but thankfully their attention turns back on themselves.

"Yeah, minus one still- she's reeling from the last critique we had. It was… pretty rough."

"yea? wanna talk about it?" It's sweet and sincere, but you don't want to burden Stretch with your troubles, especially since you don't exactly know him that well and you'd rather spend time getting to know his personality.

"Nah, I don't want to waste the half hour complaining." 'Or having a meltdown, more likely…'

He shrugs. "well i wouldn’t mind either way, but i won't push it. so you're an art student, right? i think you mentioned that on the walk."

"Mhm, interdisciplinary, but I've got a focus in metals. Kind of nice being a jack of all trades though, especially when you wanna build something that's sturdy. Or rather, when someone commissions you to make something." It's hard to keep the grin off your face while you're recalling the many commissions you've had for objects that people tried to make themselves that failed pretty catastrophically. "Like, I've seen people try to 3D print machined parts and they really only work on non-moving or smaller scale objects. Once it's big, thermodynamics come into play and you end up with just a puddle of plastic and an angry consumer. Plus, it's nice to have a hunk of steel you can trust not to crap out on you."

"huh." Stretch is clearly shocked, but seemingly in a good way. "no offense or anything, but i kind of assumed you wouldn’t be into the more technical stuff? sorry, i know that's probably a stereotype."

"Nah, for most art students that's pretty true. You'd be hard-pressed to get any engineering or physics in there unless it's their specialty. And even then, they usually do research specifically for that project. Lucky for me, or maybe unluckily, my bachelors is in chemistry so I've gone through your typical rodeo of physics and 3D prototyping classes." You don't like to brag, but the scientific approach has really changed how you view your art and it has more than paid for itself in helping plan the approach to projects. Plus, the credentials help draw in certain commissions like the one Sans is doing.

"that's… wow. never woulda guessed. what made you switch?"

"Well there's next to nothing you can do with just a bachelors in chemistry. You're pretty much expected to go straight for a masters and… I didn't want to spend another four or more years trapped in a lab running mindless tests and calculations. After a point, it just started to suck the life out of me." You're lost in thought, staring at your hands. After a minute of silence, you chance a glance up at Stretch to see that his eyelights are out and his jaw is just barely cracked open. "Uh, woah. You okay??" Setting your hand on his arm shakes him of his reverie and his eyelights return, though they're fuzzy around the edges.

"uh, I'm good. i just… i know what you mean." He doesn't elaborate further, but you're not inclined to push. Whatever secrets he has are his to tell at his own pace.

"Yeah, uh. So anyways, I added on a minor in art my senior year and after an additional two years of postbach work, I applied to the program here. Now I just chill and make stuff." You're inclined to elaborate on the meat of your thesis work, but you know that like Emma, you'll rant long into the night if provoked.

"that sounds.. nice. maybe i'll try that too." It's probably meant to be a joke, but the tone is such that you can tell he really wants it to be a reality.

"So I'm guessing you're some science background too, but uh, what about your brother?" Rather than push him for facts about himself, which he seems reluctant to divulge, you decide that asking about his brother will distract him and maybe raise his mood. Hopefully he isn't too put off by the question, but you really want to know more about what you're about to walk into in… you check the far-hanging clock with a flick of your eyes and suppress a groan. Fifteen minutes left until your demise.

"oh man, s-blue is just the best. he's a member of the guard on weekends and he runs relay for monster businesses around town during the week. sometimes he coordinates local events too, if he has the time. oh and he makes the best tacos now." Like a switch being flipped, Stretch's entire demeanor relaxes and he oozes so much pride, it's practically contagious. You find yourself smiling and resisting the urge to 'aww' audibly, but it falters a bit.

"He's in the monster guard, with Black?" You can't imagine someone as cheerful-sounding as Blue interacting with the stubborn tyrant.

"yeah, he's part of the patrol for the embassy though, so he 'n black don't have to interact much. That's probably for the best anyways since they don't get along too well. so… you've met black 'n mutt already then?"

"Regrettably, yeah. No offense to you or anything, but did something happen to them as kids? Cause they really don't know how to properly interact with people and they're intimidating as all hell." Stretch's browbones shoot up and he sets his hands on both of your shoulders.

"honeybee, have they threatened you?"

"Er, well not Black at least. I had Sans there to help deal with those interactions but uh..." it feels wrong to tattle, but he seems so genuinely invested that you're hesitant to lie.

"mutt then." He's scanning your face, neck, and what bits of your arms are exposed and you're shocked- does Mutt usually hurt people??

"He didn't really hurt me, just wanted to talk? But then he didn't actually do any talking, he just stared at me and complained about me not understanding then poof! He disappeared. It was more annoying than anything." You neglect to mention the rough treatment leading up into the alley, since the bruises would be hidden under your shirt and you're not inclined to check with him right there.

"i'll tell 'em to steer clear." It's a sweet sentiment, and you almost regret having to ruin it.

"Well Black kind of signed up for workshops on Saturdays so I assume I'm gonna have to deal with both of them for a while?"

"ugh, well at least sans should be there to keep him in check. If he ever tries anything though, don't hesitate to call me."

You nod and sigh- jeez, you're not dong to well with this whole conversation thing. You attempt to lighten the mood with a twenty questions game and, by the time your alarm goes off, the atmosphere is far less tense.

"that your alarm for the gym?" Even though you haven't answered him, Stretch has already slid down off the bartop and offered his arm to you.

"Ah, yeah. That's the torture tone alright." You reply cheerily. It gets a snicker out of him, so you count it as a win. "Seriously though if you don't hear from me tomorrow it's because my arms and legs dissociated from my body and I couldn’t be bothered to get them back."

"ah, 've had that happen before." You whip your head over to him and- no, he doesn’t seem to be lying. Sliding off the barstool, you loop your arm through his and give it a playful tug.

"What, so they just detach??"

"yeah," he snickers, "sometimes. i can put 'em back on, but sometimes 'm too lazy. got me outta a run once though, so that was cool. but i must've a _track_ ted to much attention 'cause then blue got wise to it and started smackin' me with my own legs so uh… _patella_ you the truth, i don't do it 'round him anymore." Smoothly, he guides you out and onto the street, already pulling in the direction of the gym.

"Oh I'd pay to see that." It's a joke, but also kind of not? Hey, it's not every day you get to see your morbid fantasies come to fruition without any real damage. "Thanks for this, by the way." You motion to his arm, linked through yours, and smile. "I wasn't sure if you'd mind."

"nah, 's the least i can do. 'sides, blue'd be pretty mad at me if somethin' happened between here an' there. an' this way, they won't notice classic sneakin' out." The snort that escapes you is unsightly, but you just can't help it.

"Ah, so I'm the distraction, gotcha."

"ayep, just gotta… _weight_ for the right moment." You groan a little, if only because that one is so overused, but pretending it wasn't funny in context would be like trying to lick your elbow- virtually impossible. 

Whelp, no time like the present to practice your distraction skills. "So I'll go in and you hang by the entrance I guess? It'' be easier if I've only gotta get one of you out of there. If you get drawn in too, I can't make any promises."

"fair enough, but i know a shortcut if things go south."

"Seems like a lot of work to get out of a single workout?" Bemused, you nudge his arm and he just shrugs.

"eh, you'll see."

As Slim Gym comes into view, you're fully hyped up to play the scapegoat, if nothing else than for the fact that the brothers' antics give you life. Stretch is quick to tuck against the side of the entrance, out of sight while you swing open the door and slide in. You wave at Jim in his seat at the front desk (reading a magazine as per usual) before scanning the room.

Stretching on the mats with their backs turned are Papyrus and another shorter skeleton you assume is Blue. They're caught up in a soft conversation on effective stretching for muscles… that they don't have? In front of them is Sans, who is once again being forced to touch his toes and from the looks of it, he may be doing worse than before? He catches your eye from across the way and his sockets widen at your little thumbs up while you cross the space.

"Hey guys!" You sling both arms around Papyrus' head and settle yours on top of his, effectively limiting his movements. He startles a bit at first, but seemingly relaxes almost immediately and, while you can't see his face, you notice his tone is a bit brighter. Slowly, Sans shifts himself into an upright seated position and nudges himself a few feet back.

"Human Bee! You made it!" His arms reach up and pat your head, causing you to giggle and shy away a bit.

"Yeah of course! I won't ever dip on an established day unless something big comes up." Pulling Papyrus to his feet is no small task, but you manage fairly quickly and tug his arm, angling him away from Sans. "Besides, you said you were bringing more family for me to meet?"

"Oh! Yes, Of Course. This is Blue." He motions with his free hand; said skeleton moves closer, bouncing with excitement.

"Hello Human! I Have Heard About You From Quite A Few Members Of My Family." Oof, you can only imagine the things that are said amongst these skeletons. If you were a lesser person, it might freak you out a bit but as it stands- nah, who are you kidding? You're terrified of what they think and you really want them all to be friends (except maybe Mutt if he keeps freaking you out).

"All good things I hope?"

"Of Course! We Would Never Speak Ill Of You!" Papyrus slaps a hand to his chest in indignation, flicking his gaze between you and Sans (who has gained a few more feet of distance).

"Thanks Paps, but it's less you I'm worried about and more Black and Mutt…"

"Oh… Yes Well… As They Say, No Accounting For Taste?" You have to cough to cover the snort that forces itself out of you. Damn Papyrus, throwing that shade. Sans also snickers, albeit unintentionally, and Papyrus turns to beam at his brother.

"Heh, thanks. Glad you guys aren't sick of me yet." If Papyrus were a little less observant, this might be easier but you imagine he's always got one eye on Sans if he's nearby. At least Blue seems fairly fascinated by you and Papyrus's interactions, if his rapt attention is any indicator. You flick your eyes between both skeletons, then once to Sans who is now frozen at the back of the group, before a plan formulates.

"Hey Papyrus… Uh feel free to say no or whatever but… could I get a hug? It's been a rough day and platonic hugs always make me feel better. I would've asked Emma but we were in a group at the bar and I didn't wanna cause a scene." Which, for the most part, is entirely true. And you really could use a hug- though you're unsure how comforting a skeleton hug can be.

"O.. Of Course! The Great Papyrus Is The Best At Comforting Friends." Despite the bravado in the statement, he still looks extremely nervous when he turns towards you and opens his arms up. You're quick to accept the offer and- wow, he's super warm and cuddly. How does that even work??

A soft sigh of contentment escapes your lips as you cuddle closer, though the skeleton in your grasp squirms slightly. Even if you can't see his face from this angle, you imagine Papyrus must be clearly flustered- scratch that- he's probably full on shell-shocked if Blue's snickering is any indication.

With both skeleton's focus on you, Sans is finally free to stand and slink under the overhang at the back of the gym. He dopily shoots you two thumbs up before waving. Your response, of course, is to shoot him a finger gun and a bright smile using Papyrus's frame as a shield, mouthing, "Glass tomorrow!" He nods and dips around a pillar that's only about six feet wide. When he doesn’t appear on the other side, you assume he's done the poofy teleportation that skeletons just seem to be able to do. Once he's out of sight, you're able to relax and release Papyrus.

"Man Paps, you really give the best hugs. Wish I could just take ya home with me, I bet it'd help me sleep." When you step back and look up, you're greeted with the softest wash of orange light that seems to have overtaken Papyrus' entire skull. "Uh. Papyrus? You good?"

"I MUST!!! POWDER MY NOSE!!" And he's off, bolting into the changing rooms before you can get another word in.

"But you don't… have a nose?" You muse to yourself before glancing at Blue who, despite his best efforts at keeping a straight face, is bent over with one gloved hand on his face, raucous 'MWEH HEH HEH's causing his smaller frame to shake.

It only takes a few minutes for Blue to right himself and when he does, he sticks his hand out to you. "Let's Try That Again. I'm Blue."

You take his hand and give him your name. "But call me Bee please." He's certainly the smallest skeleton you've been able to interact with, so you take a moment to examine him. He's built kind of like Sans but smaller, more similar to Black if you had to guess. His tank top with "BODY TYPE: Works out but definitely says yes to tacos" printed on it works to accentuate the overall slenderness.

"Of Course!" Once he pulls his hand back, Blue casts a glance around the room, contemplating. "I Thought My Lazy Brother Agreed To Come Here Tonight…"

"Oh?" Shit, faking innocent really isn't your strong suit. "Well maybe you can try contacting him or something, I've gotta go change for this workout!" Dipping into the changing rooms fills you with an immediate palpable sense of relief. By the time you've changed and stuffed your extra belongings into a locker, you're far more composed. Papyrus is out and talking to Blue by the mats when you come back out.

"Ah! Human Bee! Did You Happen To See My Brother Leave?"

"Uh, nope. Didn't even realize he was missing. We can just catch him up on Friday though, right?"

"Nyeh! Well, I suppose since he did go for a walk with you on Monday, which he never does unprompted.. And he has seemed to be doing better…" He's deep in thought so you start your stretches, focusing more so on your legs than anything else. When you finish, he's still weighing pros and cons so you move over to the water fountains and fill your bottle before moving around to examine the different machines. Fortunately, Blue's impatience far outweighs your own nerves.

"We Can Deal With Both Of Our Brothers When We Get Home." He flicks his eyes to you and Papyrus straightens, nodding.

"Alright. Now That That's Settled, Come Human! We Must Commence The Five Mile Warm-up Run On The Treadmill!"

"Papyrus, I Thought We Agreed On A Ten Mile Warm-up Run?" Blue interjects innocently. You can already feel your muscles crying.

"Oh boy… they're gonna owe me extra for this…"

It turns out Stretch was right: you should've dipped when you had the chance. It was like a constant competition between the two energetic skeletons, each seeking your praise when they completed their set and each set seemingly longer and harder than the last. Normally, this wouldn’t bother you that much except they were both _so damn fast_ and you? You were _just too determined_ to quit even after the dawning realization that you couldn't keep up. By the time they'd finished, you were still several sets from the end and they both decided to cheer you on. It was extremely embarrassing but at the time, you'd been struggling to even keep air in your lungs so you let it slide.

Now, as you leave the changing room with a face still glowing red (from the embarrassment or the sheer exertion, you'll never know) you realize you'll probably have to text Papyrus about a modified regimen for yourself. But that can wait till later, you decide, because right now you want to just enjoy the praise- and man, is there a lot of it. You're seriously tempted to convince Papyrus and Blue into being personal trainers because wow, they really know how to stay positive and keep you motivated.

"I'm Very Excited For Friday, Human Bee! I Bet You'll Do Even Better Than Today!" He picks you up and swings you around in his excitement.

"Hah, thanks Paps." You tap his arm to be let down and stifle a groan- will you even be able to walk by Friday? "Well I'll see you both Friday then?"

"Oh! Oh!" Blue waves his hands sporadically to halt your retreat. "I Almost Forgot." He digs into his pockets and retrieves a slip of paper. "I've Been Organizing A 5K Obstacle Course For Ebott and I Want You To Be On My- Ah, Our Team!"

"Team? You mean like… competitive racing?" Your heart rate picks up as you scan the paper. The race runs in early November, a few short weeks from now, and offers a cash prize to the competitive applicants. Now you don't necessarily slack, but you've seen what the competitive runners can do and it's absolutely terrifying. There's no way you'd be able to keep up with them!

Blue's eyelights shrink and he shakes his head, holding out his hands in a placating manner. "Nonono, Just For Fun! The Team Part Is For Registration And So We Can Make Team Shirts!"

"Yes, We Already Have Some Designs in Mind." Papyrus adds, slinging an arm around your shoulders and whipping out his phone to show you. They're all skull-themed, hand-drawn doodles of logos with different team names and color compositions.

"Well then yeah, I'd love to." Taking the paper and slipping it into your bag one-handed is a task, but you manage. "We can maybe talk more on Friday about how big we want the team and maybe some strategies for the obstacles so we can be prepared!"

"Excellent Plan! Until then, stay safe!" Papyrus tucks away his phone and gives you one last hug before waving goodbye. He and Blue slide into a cherry-red convertible that probably costs more than your tuition before driving off.

"Oh boi, what am I signing myself up for?" After sending a text to Emma letting her know you were on your way home, you start down the road back to your apartment. With the free time you'll have walking, you decide to plug the race into your calendar before giving the rest of it a once-over. Halloween is in just six days and, as is customary, the school will be closed Monday the 30th though Wednesday the 1st to allow students and faculty alike time to recover from their shenanigans.

When monsters surfaced from under the mountain, Halloween in Ebott changed dramatically. It became more of a celebration of monsters and their kind contributions to so many fields; from the food to the medical industry, monster kind has been making advancements for the betterment of the population as a whole. In light of these advancements, many people use this day to throw celebratory parties as a thank-you. Sure, kids still dress up and go trick or treating, but it's less about being scared of monsters and more about appreciating their diverse culture. It's just a shame that such methodologies haven't spread outside of the city of Ebott itself.

Briefly, you wonder what the skeleton family does over the holiday; after all, it's practically made for them! Surely they celebrate in some way? The thought of the skeletons putting on costumes and partying it up fills you with a warm fuzzy feeling. So fuzzy, in fact, that you don't feel the pain in the back of your head until the shock of gravel against your right side and the sharp pain that shoots up the length of your arm startle you out of your reverie.

Something must have fractured; shifting into an upright position nearly has you losing your dinner, so you're quick to compensate with your left arm, cradling your right tight against you thin jacket. The duffel that was over your arm is no longer with you and vaguely, you recognize the dim light of your screen illuminating the boots of a crouched figure. You're far enough from the outskirts of downtown that the only other light source is the moon, but it gives you enough to work with.

"You should be more careful there little lady. City's not safe at night." The speaker, an older male from the sound of it, has his jacket's hood pulled up to shroud his face. He's crouched forward, but that does little to conceal the glint of the pistol in his grip. With his free hand, he pockets your phone.

"Didn't'cher ma ever teach ya not ta walk with yer face in yer phone?" He chuckles, a harsh sound filled to the brim with malice. Behind him, you spot your duffel, probably pulled off of you when he first struck. With dawning horror, you realize that you probably have little to no chance of defending yourself without it.

"Not much of a talkin' type huh?" Crunching gravel snaps your attention to him and you scramble to your feet, holding up your good arm defensively.

"L-look, you've already got everything I have. Just leave me alone!"

"Hm.." He tilts the pistol this way and that, watching the soft lights dancing across the metallic surface. "S'pose yer right, but y'see…" He levels the gun to your head and your body seizes up. "I seen you walkin' round with them corpses an' I jis' don' think tha's natural." If he didn’t have a literal gun to your head, you'd probably be screaming at this point. Of course all the racists always carry guns on them.

"They're just friends. Monsters, just like all the others. They've got… every right to.." The clicking of the gun's safety chokes out the rest of your words.

"I dun' mind a lotta monsters, but them corpses 're somethin' else." His logic makes your brain hurt. Something else? What, just because they look like human skeletons? It's absolute bullshit! "Anyways, jus' wanna make sure ya know not to hang 'round them no more if ya know wha's good fer ya."

"Wh-no. I wont-" you swallow thickly, "I won't be bullied into being racist towards my friends." It's barely a whisper by the end, but you manage it anyways. He sighs, tutting softly, slinking forward until he's mere inches from you.

"Yeh really dun' know when ta shaddup huh?" You catch a sliver of movement as he brings the pistol across your temple before the world goes dark.


	10. Racists? In My Town? It's More Likely Than You'd Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get some visitors at the hospital and come up with a game plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a plan, but then it kind of went off-track and now we're here. Gonna try to wrangle it back in next chapter.

When you wake up numb and surrounded by white sheets and walls, your first thought is that you've died. That concern is quickly overruled as your entire body remembers that it has nerve endings and begins firing them off all at once. "ow-ow-ow-ow-OW!" Reflexively, you lift both hands to cup your head- or, well… you try to, but the right one is in a splint and strapped against your chest. This holds your focus for all of five seconds before you rapidly dart your vision along your arms, unbidden panic welling up inside- no needles. Good, there's nothing worse than waking up full of needles. That thought alone helps you relax enough to settle back. There's gauze bandage over the majority of your left eye, obscuring your vision. Annoyed, you tug it to the side and tuck it into the rest. Now exposed to the light, your eyes water a bit and you have to squint them.

It takes several blinks to help clear your vision enough to take in your surroundings, but when you do, you recognize the layout for what it is: a hospital room. It's a single bedroom without any fanfare, probably meant for short-term patients like yourself. The bed you're in is at the back of the room and you're willing to bet, based on the absence of any major equipment, that the worst of your injuries are probably a couple stitches and a broken bone. Experimentally, you lift and lower your eyebrows, cringing. Yep, some kind of suture is tugging at the tender skin along the back and left side of your head.

Gingerly, you raise your good hand and touch along the bandages, feeling for the extent. It's centralized in a three-inch spot along the back and maybe a two inch diameter along the side. No doubt, whoever that guy was had hit you with the pistol both times and, in a contest between steel and flesh, steel always wins out. After you're satisfied with the once over, you look toward the exit. 

Posted just outside the door is a security guard who you can only guess came when he heard your yelling and… he's looking at you and speaking into his walkie talkie. Okay, that's a little creepy. When he catches your eye, he finishes whatever he was saying and steps into the room, smile goofy enough to be almost infectious.

"Hey there, how are you feeling?" His question seems genuine and you relax a bit. Right, no need to worry while you're in the actual hospital. There's all kinds of nurses and doctors running around so if anyone tried anything, you could get help here. Still, you tug your blankets closer to your chest.

"I'm…" You lick your lips, trying to focus on forming words. It's considerably harder than you remember and for a moment, you're worried. Did you get hit harder than you'd originally thought? Or maybe it's just hard to assess your exact state of being when your head's still reeling from previous events. It's like a million different things are running through your mind and none are stopping for more than a second, leaving you with a looming sense of fear.

Already, you know your day-to-day life is going to change drastically. No more long walks for you and, jeez. When Emma catches wind of this, she's going to be on you like a helicopter parent. Quietly, you lament the loss of your independence. You only hope your friends don't think less of you for this. Your face must be conveying something, because the guard raises his hands and rushes to speak.

"Hey hey, don't stress. The doctors said you might have a mild concussion so it may be hard for you to talk for a bit but that it should fade within a few days. You're lucky that guard member found you when he did though, you were bleeding quite a bit apparently." You grimace and sigh.

"Thanks…?"

"Ah, yeah, sorry. I realize it's not great news, but, it's better to know something than nothing. My name's Phil by the way, I work the night shift here at Ebott Mercy. Usually it's pretty calm around here, but you sure stirred up a raucous."

"Jeez…" You give him your name, followed by a very energetic handshake on his part.

"Oh, on the bright side, since the guard found you, they're going to be handling the case and their track record is pretty good with these kinds of things. I mean, the guard member who found you didn't look like much… kind of like a Samoyed? Pretty cute actually. But eh, the lieutenant who showed up afterwards looked like he means business. Real scary guy, glowing red eyes. Maybe Sauron style, if you think about it. But no pupil though so more like mothman? But like way skinnier." He snickers to himself before remembering he's not alone. "Sorry, I know I'm probably rambling… uh." His eyes cut off to the side, deep in thought. He paces back and forth a bit, trying to remember something maybe?

You're beginning to suspect that maybe he's had one too many cups of coffee, what with the way he's mumbling to himself, when suddenly he snaps and utters a soft 'right!' "Anyways, just wanna warn you that I've let him know you're awake and he should be coming up here to get your statement and uh… Just be careful I guess? He seemed pretty rough around the edges. I'll be just outside if you need me though." He seems nervous enough for the both of you, shooting his eyes towards the door and back.

As if on cue, a tall skeleton in a guard uniform similar to Black's walks in. It takes a minute for your brain to sort before you realize, with mild trepidation, that you somehow DON'T know this skeleton. How that's even POSSIBLE, you're not entirely sure, but you shove that away in favor of examining him. He looks like if Papyrus tried to imitate a gang member from west side story, or maybe Black? Whatever you chalk it up to, he's clearly not a 'hug it out' kind of guy and you're beginning to regret some life choices.

"HUMAN!" His eyes land on you and he crosses the rooms in three short strides. You flinch, hard, both from his sudden approach and his excruciatingly loud voice. Phil notices and shoots his arm out, soccermom-ing the skeleton before he can get in your face.

"Hey, listen… She's got a concussion so you've gotta be quieter than that!"

"They…" You grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose to fight back the pain. Behind your eyelids, lights pulse like a disco and you panic, dizziness and disorientation doubling. Reopening your eyes dissipates the pulsing but does little for the other symptoms.

"Oh, uh sorry. _They_ have a concussion." The skeleton seems to look between Phil and you, thinking, before he shifts back and crosses his arms in a semi-nonthreatening manner.

"Fine, But I Am Going To Have To Ask You To Leave The Room, As This Is Not Your Jurisdiction." Phil raises both hands up in a placating 'fair enough' motion before shrugging and stepping back. 

"I'll be right outside," at the taller skeleton's withering glare, he adds, "j-just so I can contact the police when you're done. They'll want a statement as well."

"That Won't Be Necessary, I Will Have One Of My Men Deliver The Statement To Them."

"Oh…" He looks at you, nervous but also unwilling to leave you alone, so you give him the best smile you can manage and a thumbs up. "Okay, get better soon then." With that confirmation, he steps outside the room and shuts the door.

"So…" The skeleton pulls out a small notebook and gives you a onceover. "My Name Is Edge Osseus And I Am A Lieutenant With The Monster Guard." He pauses and you nod, slowly. You're trying to figure out if he jokingly gave his last name as the Latin word for skeleton or if _that's actually_ his last name. If it is, you really don't want to ruin this by laughing but at the same time, _you really, really_ want to laugh.

"And your name is…?" You tell him your given name, reluctantly. While your nickname won't do you any good here, you've developed an affinity for it and giving anyone your birth name now just seems off. Well, if you're going to see him again after this which, undoubtedly you will if your current skeleton problem continues, then you can tell him that you prefer to go by Bee. "Alright. One Of My Guards Found You Passed Out Along Downtown Avenue. Can You Remember Anything That Happened Previous To That?"

"I was at the gym………. with friends. Ah, Papyrus and Blue?" His eyelights narrow on you and you shrink back, avoiding eye contact. You've got plenty of questions for him, but you want to try and keep this professional so you force yourself to continue. "When I left, I got jumped. It was just some guy so far as I could tell." It's clear he's trying to connect some dots and you hope that no one's spoken ill of you yet, though you doubt Blue or Papyrus to be capable of such things.

"Can You Remember Any Details About Him?" You scrunch up your nose, exhaling harshly.

"No, just that he was taller than me… sounded older too. He was wearing a jacket? Dunno, it wasn't well lit." 

"Alright, Did He Say Anything To You?"

"Yeah," You grimace, the words echoing in your brain, "he told me it wasn't _natural_ to hang out with 'corpses' and I should stop if I knew what was good for me. Then he knocked me out and took my stuff." The words bring bile to your throat and you have to choke it back down. Like hell you were going to live in fear. Threats like these got overlooked so often, it was almost sickening. Yeah, maybe what you did was reckless and dangerous, but at least now the authorities HAD to take it seriously if they didn't want a lawsuit. Plus, the monster guard was far more proactive in discrimination cases than the local authority could ever pretend to be. 

"He Took Your Things? Cellphone Included?"

"Cellphone, keys, and my gym bag. Didn't have my wallet on me, thank god, since I just carry my gym card and some cash in by bag on Burger Night." He pulls out his own phone, holding a finger up towards you. It rings for a moment before someone picks up. You can't hear their end of the conversation, but Edge has returned to full volume and is clear as day.

"SHUT IT YOU STUPID MUTT. THIS IS A BUSINESS CALL. GRAB YOUR COMPUTER AND GET OVER HERE." A pause; he's tapping his foot, clearly impatient. "NO, NOT THE STATION." He recites the name and address of the hospital, along with the room number, then hangs up the phone and grumbles a moment about 'useless copies'.

"My…. Eugh, Associate… Will Be Here Shortly." He takes a moment to get some other information off you, namely date of birth and where you live, whether you thought the assailant would know where you live, any other incidents you've been involved in, other motives, etc and you find yourself hung up on the idea that he would try it again, or worse, that he knows where you live.

"We Can Assign You A Guard Until He Is Found And Taken Into Custody. We Have A Few Undercover Officers Who Would Be Good For The Job."

"I can't imagine he'd be stupid enough to try it again but… If it's not too much trouble? I don't like the idea of him having my keys. I work weird hours though so it might be difficult." You scratch the back of your head, feeling sorry for whatever sad sap has to loiter around when you work in the studio late at night, but Edge waves his hand dismissively.

"I Am Sure Greater Dog Will Not Mind, Just Be Sure Not To Let The Whelp Take Up All Of Your Time With His Attention-Seeking Habits." You snicker and nod, praying to anything that will listen that the guard is indeed a dog. The odds are good, you reckon, seeing as monsters aren't the most creative at naming anything: people or their offspring.

"I wouldn't mind, so long as he's not offended by it." He snorts and rolls his eyelights.

"Please, If Anything, You'd Be Doing The Rest Of Us A Service By Taking Him Off Our Hands For A Bit. The Canine Unit May Have Undeniable Tracking Skills, But Their Attention Spans Are… Divided At Best." 

You want to respond, to tell him that all doggos are good doggos and deserve all the love, but a sudden unexpected commotion in the hallway distracts you. Loud, clicking footsteps, an electric charge in the air, and a demanding tone- oh god, you recognize that voice. It seems Edge recognizes it as well, as he leaves the bedside for the far end of the room, ready to intercept.

"Oh Great, He Brought the Tyrant…." As if they'd done it a thousand times, Black slams the door wider, only t have Edge catch it before it connects with the wall.

"ALRIGHT EDGE, JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO TELL MY BROTHER WHAT TO DO IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHEN-" He's advancing into the room, finger pointed aggressively but words are cut short when he catches sight of you huddled up in the blankets. Mutt slinks up beside him seconds later and stalls as well, an unlit cigarette dangling between his teeth.

"jeez, th'hell you been up to?" His eyes cut to the clock and his fingers tick up one at a time at his side and you realize he must be trying to calculate how long it's been since he last saw you. When you glance at the clock as well, you're surprised to find it's only 2am. That means you were out for about 5 hours. You wonder, briefly, how long you were lying on the ground before someone found you.

"Y'know, the usual." He's clearly not buying the cheeky grin you're trying to hold so you let it drop and sigh. "Got mugged." He steps closer and shakes his head.

"looks like more than a regular muggin'."

"Well Since You All Know Each Other, This Will Be Easier. The Human's Things Were Taken When They Were Attacked, Cellphone Included. I Assume You Can Track It? Perhaps The Assailant Was Idiotic Enough To Keep It With Him." At Edge's insistence, Mutt parks himself in the nearby visitor's chair and pulls his laptop out, clicking away. Black lowers his hand finally, turning his gaze away from you and onto Edge once more.

"I Suppose I Can Forgive This Indiscretion Just This Once, Seeing As It Is For Business." He holds his hand out expectantly and, after the most dramatic eyeroll and long-suffering sigh, Edge gives him the report. He glances your way once more before they both step off to discuss the next steps. You're curious, sure, but it's official business and besides, it's not your place to be so nosey with these skeletons you barely know.

"could've done this from home…." Mutt's adjacent voice startles you, his words sinking in after a delay.

"But you don’t have my number…" Confusion, then horror wash over you at his smug silence. "Oh god, you do. How the hell'd you get it??" You spin towards him, accusations ready to fly, but you're halted by the shooting pain in your arm. You wince, hand flying up to grab your arm. "Hrrrgh." His eyes flicker up to you and then back down to the screen.

"shouldn't move around too much." Silence stretches between you, only broken by the soft clicking of his phalanges on the keyboard, before he speaks again. "thought you were with the ashtray?"

"Ashtray? Is that some kinda slur against Grillby??" Everything in you wants to give Mutt the most incredulous look you can muster but you steel yourself, hoping his explanation is less offensive than your immediate conclusion.

"stretch." He amends. Wow. What an endearing nickname for a cousin, and a bit hypocritical if the cigarette still dangling from Mutt's jaw is anything to go by. At least it's among family and not directed towards the sweet bartender.

"Oh, yeah we hung out for a half hour before I went to the gym. Then he dipped out with Sans and I hung with Papyrus and Blue at the gym for a while before heading home."

"an' they just let you walk around by yourself late at night without a car?"

"Ah… I mean… yes?"

"…." He pushes the laptop screen down a bit and levels you with a deadpan look. "did they know you didn't have a car? or that you were walking back alone?" You cough and rub the back of your head, which he takes as enough of an answer. "y'know they're gonna blame themselves for this." Cringing, you shake your head.

"There's no reason for that. This was all me. I'm sure they'll understand if I explain it…"

"mhm…" he eyes you for a moment before pulling out his phone and holding it out to you. When you don't take it, he wiggles it and adds, "c'mon, i imagine there's someone you wanna tell 'bout this? hospitals don't 'xactly have phones layin' around."

"I don't… have anyone's numbers memorized." It never seemed pertinent to memorize anyone's numbers aside from close family and the last thing you wanted to do was wake them up at 2am and stress them out over nothing. There's not a lot they could do from states away anyways.

" 've got all my family's numbers on there." You skim through the contacts and- yeah, they're all here. But what would you need to say to them at 2am that couldn’t wait until a more reasonable hour? You shake your head and hand it back.

"I can wait until the sun's up at least. Don't wanna wake anyone up and stress 'em for no reason." The look Mutt shoots you is dubious, but he pockets the phone regardless. A few more minutes and it seems he's gotten what he needs from the laptop so he flips it shut and turns his attention to you, motioning towards you. You look down and- yes, he's motioning to the arm in the sling. "Uh?" Eloquent, but you're not sure what else to say.

"jeez, c'mere." He rolls his eyelights and uses the blanket underneath you to drag your body closer to the edge. You startle and shoot your arm out, gripping the lapel of his jacket and he laughs. With a surprising amount of gentleness, he shifts the sling far enough away from your body to cup it in his hands. Next, he tilts his head in closer, staring intently at the bandages. " 's not that bad of a break, but 's got 'nough of his intent in it to make it a bit harder to heal…" He settles the arm back down gently then probes at your head, eliciting a hiss.

"What're you doing?" You're struggling not to pull out of his grasp but it's painful and your patience is long gone.

"tryna see how bad it is. i think one of the others could prob'ly heal the arm but…" His hands slip away from your temples as he sighs. "th' head's gonna have to heal on its own."

"Oh…. Why's my arm different from my head?"

" 's all about intent. This guy clearly had an intent to kill when he hit your head but the arm must've been a side effect?" He's looking at you for confirmation so you nod.

"Yeah, I landed on the concrete pretty hard after his first hit. Must've snapped something then."

"so the arm didn't have much of his intent behind it. intent's a powerful thing fer monsters an' it can get in the way of healin'."

"That makes sense, I suppose. Well… maybe Papyrus wouldn't mind healing me before he goes to the gym on Friday."

"kid, y'know you could just ask 'em to come by. doesn’t have ta be right now, but you don't gotta wait till friday either."

"I'm sure he's busy though, and he's already set time aside for me on Friday-" Mutt cuts you off, raising his finger and sighing deeply.

"not sure how i ever thought you were a threat… but ya really gotta take better care of yourself, an' tha's sayin' something comin' from me." He tucks his laptop into the carrier and pulls out his phone, clicking away for a bit.

"I know perfectly well how to care for myself while also being respectful of others! Besides, this was just an accident and it's not even that bad-" There's a resounding _THUMP_ outside the door and your words die on your lips. Looking at Mutt accusingly, you whisper. "you didn't…" He just shrugs and stands, moving over towards the other two skeletons. He bends and whispers something to Black, whose eyelights flick to you and then the door. He nods, opening the door and all but shoving Mutt and Edge out before following suit.

It's quiet for only a few seconds before Papyrus bolts in wearing spaghetti-print pajamas. Sans is tucked under his arm, clearly only half- awake judging by his drooping eyelids. "traitor!" It comes out as a hiss (you doubt Mutt can even hear it from outside the room) while you duck under the covers, face flushed with shame.

"Human Bee!!" The blankets do nothing to protect you when Papyrus scoops the entire ball into his arms. It's such a sweet gesture, but he's grabbed you around the waist and is squishing your arm into your abdomen. The pain is enough to elicit a soft shriek, tears stinging your eyes. In a heartbeat, you're back on the bed and a very nervous Papyrus is gently trying to get leverage on the blanket. "I Am Sorry!" You're more tangled than before, and Papyrus is desperately trying to free you without hurting you more. "Please Bee, I Just Want To Help." With your good hand, you unwrap yourself from the blanket and peek over the edge. Papyrus is kneeling beside the bed, hands hovering just out of reach in wait. His expression is scrunched up, looking like tears could spill out at any moment. On the edge of the bed sits Sans, wide awake after the commotion, his skull drained of any color and his eyelights near-imperceptible pinpricks.

"Hi…" Your wave is weak, smile even weaker, but it's enough to startle Papyrus into action. He sets his hands on your head first but recoils near-immediately, a pained look crossing his face. From there, he moves onto your arm, unsure at first, but as his gloves emit a green glow, his confidence returns.

"Mutt Told Us You Were Attacked…?" He flicks his eyes to Sans, who nods, and you figure Mutt must've assumed Sans'd be awake and texted him.

"It's really not that bad, I'm just a little scuffed up." The brothers share a disbelieving look and you're painfully aware you're not going to fool them with just words. Still, you have to try. "Really. It's just some stitches and a fracture."

"uh. have ya actually seen yerself yet?" Your eyes shoot up to Sans and, dubiously, you shake your head. He pulls out his phone, confirms with you, then snaps a quick photo and turns it around.

Carefully, you take the phone and bring it closer. On first glance, you don't even recognize yourself; there's gauze bandages wrapped tightly around the entire upper half of your head, tucking lower to your left temple and even looping under the ear. There's a bandage on the left cheek you hadn't felt before and just above it, you catch a glimpse at the deep blushing of a fresh bruise. Covering the rest of your face are a few other cuts and scrapes and finally, the dark bluish bruising under your eyes indicating your overall exhaustion.

"y'don't gotta pretend bee, we're not gonna judge you if you're hurtin'." Fresh tears well in your eyes and you nod. "we're gonna find the guy that did this an' bring 'em to justice." Hesitantly, he slides his arm over your shoulders and draws you in, tucking his chin onto your head. Beside him, Papyrus eases your healed arm down before wrapping his arms around the both of you. Hidden by the comforting mass of both skeletons, you finally allow yourself the breakdown you've been needing, body shaking in waves while quiet sobs wrack it.

Nearly an hour passes with you curled against Sans before you're able to calm down and, despite knowing that both brothers want the best for you, the guilt has returned full-force. "Sorry for bothering you both so late… I tried to tell Mutt it could wait."

"Nonsense! The Great Papyrus Is Never Too Busy To Help Out A Friend, Especially If They’re Hurt. But Bee, Why Didn't You Tell Us You've Been Walking Home Alone? I Could Have Driven You."

"I don't like asking people for favors and it wasn't really a problem before, I've been doing it for years." You regret the words almost as soon as they come out when you see Sans's eyelights vanish. Quickly, you raise both hands, only slightly hindered by the obsolete brace, and explain. "It's never more than a forty minute walk! And if I ever feel nervous, I call someone." That doesn’t seem to help much, as Sans pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. Slowly, his eyelights fade back into existence and his expression is all the more haggard for it.

"that's gonna stop. if it's after 9, you call one of us."

"Wh- I mean, Edge is going to assign me a member of the guard until this is over so there's no need!"

"I Don't Think You Quite Understand Our Worries, Though That _Is_ Good To Hear. Even Once The Culprit Is Taken Into Custody, You Shouldn't Travel Alone At Night. We Wouldn't Be Able To Forgive Ourselves If This Happened Again And We Could Have Prevented It." 

"But you barely know me, how can I ask so much of you?"

"you're our friend bee. an' monsters 're literally made of love, hope, an' compassion so you're stuck with us."

"And Besides That, It's Literally Just A Car Ride. Probably A Short One, If You Live So Close To Campus. Besides, Carpooling With Friends Is A Great Bonding Experience!"

"It just feels like I'm taking advantage of your kindness." You're wracking your brain for something, anything to make this deal fair to them at all. It goes against everything you know to just accept such a big favor without any kind of exchange, especially knowing everything monsters have had to fight through to get to the surface. Weeks and weeks of government quarantine trying to pressure them into giving up their wealth of knowledge, laws being written at every turn to impede progress, you can only imagine how much the world has already stolen from them. 

"th'fact that you feel that way at all proves you aren't. 'sides, 'm a pretty good _judge_ of character." Papyrus groans and taps him lightly upside the head, leaving you bewildered. If there's a joke in there somewhere, it's lost on you.

"Okay but… if there's ever anything I can do for you guys, please just ask. And if you change your mind about it at any point, I can just ask Emma or Nate." You omit the knowledge that both parties sleep like the dead and have never woken to your calls or texts before, despite their best intentions.

"Of Course. Now, Shall We Get You Home?"

"That's really sweet of you to offer Paps, but… I don’t have my keys. That asshole took them. I can just wait here until morning so I can all the apartment and maybe just get them to change the locks. Then I'll have to talk to the school about losing the studio keys, eugh." Your face scrunches up involuntarily; you're not looking forward to explaining that to Nancy. Most of the time, the older administrative assistant was almost companionable, but you knew for sure she'd be royally peeved about having to get so many locks changed.

You sit for a moment, trying to figure out what else needs to be taken care of before it hits you like a ton of bricks. "Oh, shit. Pops!!!" You startle up, slipping from the brothers' grasp for only a second before Papyrus wrangles you back onto the bed.

"Slow Down Human, You Are Still Injured! What Is It You Need?"

"My cat, Poppy! She's alone at the apartment right now. I've gotta get in some way…"

"no way. you shouldn't go home till we know the situation. Even if you get the locks changed, if he knows where you are, he could still break in."

"I…. Hadn't thought about that. I guess I'll need somewhere to stay?"

Mentally, you go through your options; the list is short and not at all promising. The closest family you have is nine hours away by car so that's immediately out. Next is Nate and Emma, but they live together in a shoebox apartment. Besides, Nate is still very allergic to cats despite his insistence that he can handle it. Lynn has her own two cats and, while they're friendly enough together, they are decidedly NOT friendly with other cats.

Lastly, Jenna lives in the dorms with others and, despite being comfortable around him in the studio, you don't quite trust Sam enough to crash on his couch for a few days. Maybe the hospital could house you? Ugh, but the bills would be astronomical assuming they would even let you stay that long. The studio is out too; you've tried sleeping there before, but the night shift cleaners are legally required to kick you out. You can't blame them for doing their job, but it still sucks. Thankfully, Papyrus chooses this moment to interrupt your depressing train of thought.

"Human! Perhaps You Can Stay With Us?" Seeing your immediate reluctance, Sans is quick to add his bit.

" 's nothing fancy, just a pullout couch. figured you'd be more okay with that than a hotel." Grimacing, you nod. Ebott became a hot spot for tourism when the monsters arrived and the hotel industry hiked their prices accordingly.

"Just one night. And I can take that out of the glass fee." Sans opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it. He decides to fight that battle when it comes around, hoping you may forget by then.

"fine, if it makes you feel better."

"That still leaves Poppy….. I can stop by the apartment tomorrow morning once the office is open and get them to unlock it for me. Then I guess I could put her in boarding for a bit? Maybe find somewhere that could house us both..." Your budget decidedly weeps when you calculate what that might look like.

"what if I brought the cat to our place?"

"What?" You glance at Sans to see if he's serious and, based on the determined look he sports, you're guessing he is. 

"if i can get the cat, an' her supplies, will you agree to stay fer a few days? at least four or so? jus' till we can deal with this guy."

"Excellent Idea Brother! And It Is The Perfect Opportunity To See What Having A Pet Would Be Like! Some Of Our Cousins Have Been Wanting Pets For Some Time, But Were Unsure. This Would Be A Great Excuse To Do A Trial Run." It almost sounds like an excuse to make you more comfortable with the idea, but Papyrus's genuine excitement indicates that this might actually just be a happy coincidence.

"I don't... How are you going to get her from the apartment? You're not gonna break a window or anything are you?"

"nah, 'm just gonna use…." he pauses, wiggling his fingers for dramatic effect, "mmmmagic." Your eyes roll so hard you swear you almost dissociate from this plane of existence.

"Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, can you get her?" At his nod, you puff out a breath and relax. "Okay, I guess I could go a couple of days away from the apartment till it's safe. I might need some clothes though."

"i can manage that. anythin' else?" You think for a moment then shake your head.

"Everything else I might need I've got at the studio."

"Oh Boy! I Can't Wait To Have A Sleepover! Blue Is Going To Be So Excited!" Papyrus clicks away on his phone, but his words give you pause.

"Do all you guys live together…?" It would make sense that they at least lived _near_ each other with how often you see them commuting together, but the thought of so many strong personalities in one household is shocking regardless. Not to mention the house needed to accommodate so many bodies must be extensive.

"yeah, 's not a problem is it?" You briefly think of Mutt and Black, but your earlier interactions with Mutt ease your doubts and you think you can handle Black if needed.

"I'm more worried about intruding into the house without permission. It's one thing to crash with two people who know what's going on and an entirely different thing to show up at a house shared by 8 family members with a cat and a human with head trauma." Surely, you imagine, there's a limit to some monsters' patience. 

"no worries kiddo, pap 'n i bought the house so we get the final say. 'sides, they don't seem to mind you at all from what i can tell." There's something bitter in his tone that you don't quite understand so you let it slide, grumbling for a moment for nodding.

"I've got too much of a headache to argue, but if they're uncomfortable at all then I'm gonna find somewhere else to stay. And it's only for a couple days. I'll have a guard member with me if he isn't found by then. And no- I am not going to change my mind about it." He grumbles then sighs.

"we can talk more then." Papyrus softly claps his hands together and gives you both a thumbs up.

"I Will Let The Others Outside Know What Is Going On And See If I Can't Figure Out How To Get You Checked Out." He departs swiftly, leaving you and Sans alone.

"what's your address?" He's got his phone out, checking the mobile maps, so you recite it and he nods. "see ya at the house." He pockets the phone before meandering over to the door adjacent to the bed- the bathroom? The door clicks shut and silence fills the room. Cautiously, you get up and head over to the door, opening it to find a well-lit bathroom lacking one magical skeleton.

"Well that's just strange." You step inside and try to clean yourself up, avoiding looking into the mirror for too long. The sling comes off first, giving you access to the grime underneath. Once that's washed off, you carefully daub at the exposed parts of your face until you're satisfied. When you exit the bathroom, Papyrus is perched on the edge of the bed. You abandon the sling on the bedside table and approach him.

"I Imagine You Don't Want To Go Anywhere In That Hospital Gown So Mutt Grabbed Some Things From Home." He holds out an orange hoodie you're fairly familiar with and a pair of basketball shorts for you to take. "When You're Done, We Can Go To The Counter And Sign You Out. There's A Fair Bit Of Paperwork, But Apparently The Guard Is Covering The Expenses And Medication. They Have An Anti-Prejudice Program Of Sorts Set Up For This Type Of Thing Since It Is, Sadly, Fairly Common."

"Thanks… Common huh? That sucks…" You sigh and take the clothes before heading back into the bathroom, changing quickly while being mindful of your head. When you exit again, Papyrus holds his arm out for you, beaming. His confident demeanor chases away some of your anxiety as you loop your arm through his and exit the room.

After a mountain of paperwork and a trip to the hospital's pharmacy to grab your prescription, you're finally free to go. It's just after five and the others have left, so it's just you and Papyrus. "So… How are we getting to your house?"

"Normally Sans Would Take Us, But He Is Probably Passed Out By Now. Luckily, Blue Is Usually Awake By Now So I Asked Him To Drive My Car Here. Then He Can Rid Back With Us Or Go On His Morning Jog From Here."

"Oh, it’s good that some of you are on the same sleep schedule. Must make carpooling easier." The front lobby is pretty much dead save for the receptionist and- hey, it's your new friend! Phil catches sight of you both, a confused look passing his face when he examines Papyrus, but he trots over regardless. 

"It's good to see you getting out of here and, hell, they fix your arm up?" You nod and hold it out, twisting it this way and that for him to see. 

"Papyrus here is a great healer. And yeah, we're all good and I'm free to go home." 

"You're not... going alone are you?" He glances nervously between you and Papyrus, though Papyrus is quick to dismiss the idea. 

"Worry Not, Strange Human. I Will Be Watching Over Them To Be Sure The Symptoms Do Not Worsen! Also To Make Sure The Culprit Does Not Think To Strike Again."

"Oh, that's good to hear. Well I won't take any more of your time. Have a good night- er, morning? And hopefully I won't be seeing you here again any time soon." You snicker and nod, shooting him finger guns before heading out the front door with Papyrus in tow. 

You both wander out towards the adjacent parking lot at Papyrus's insistence and settle on the edge of the sidewalk. Carefully, you tuck your legs up into the over-sized hoodie; it's almost November, and the air is chilly this early in the morning. It seems Papyrus isn't effected by the cold, however, as he just settles down next to you. "So uh… you like spaghetti?" At his surprised expression, you point down to his pajamas and he flushes a soft tangerine.

"W-Well Yes, It _IS_ The Superior Food Group After All, Although Many Of My Cousins Would Disagree..."

"I think pasta is pretty great. There's so many options to make it that you can never get tried of it if you're creative. It's pretty much all I ate in undergrad, along with canned soup, so I had to get pretty thrifty and let me tell you; home made alfredo? It's a godsend. Also, so very unhealthy. So much cheese…"

"Nyeh Heh Heh, Well Perhaps I Can Get That Recipe From You?"

"Oh for sure, it's super easy." There's a long pause in the conversation, supplemented by the soft chirping of crickets and the distant sound of cars driving the highway. The eastern sky is just barely beginning to glow with the coming sunlight, coating everything in a pre-dawn glow. A glance at Papyrus confirms that he's struggling with something, so you set a comforting hand on his femur. That small touch, coupled with your patient smile, seems to give him the clarity he needs.

"Under Different Circumstances, I Would Be Ecstatic To Have You Over For A Multi-Day Sleepover, As That Is True Peak Friendship. To Have You Forced Into It… I Am Sorry Things Turned Out This Way."

"Paps, it's fine. This could have happened any time before I met you with any other racist. Besides, I'm really excited to hand out with you more, even if it's because of shitty circumstances. And I would have agreed to it if you'd asked me last night anyways… Though maybe not a multi-day sleepover. I _do_ still have school during the week. Speaking of school, I'm going to have to skip for today at least and I might have to cancel my class for Friday to give me more time to recover. I just hope the professors don't mind."

"I Am Sure They Will Understand When You Explain It To Them. If They Don’t Then… Well, Then They're Not Very Nice People."

"Heh, yeah I guess you're right." You yawn and rub your eyes. "Guess I'll send an email after some sleep."

There's a distant rumbling sound moments before the telltale cherry red convertible rolls up at extremely concerning speed. You only catch a glimpse of color before the smaller skeleton inside has exited, crossed the lot, and pulled you up into his arms.

"Human!! You Gave Us Quite A Fright." You're quickly tugged up higher and backwards, followed by a disgruntled shout from Blue.

"Blue, You Really Must Be More Careful. Bee Is Still Injured." Delicately, Papyrus shifts you into a bridal position. It's difficult, but you manage not to roll your eyes at their antics.

"Guys, I can walk on my own you know."

"Of Course." He makes no move to put you down.

"Papyrus, seriously."

"What Ever Do You Mean?" Despite being the picture of innocence, Papyrus still carries you the length of the parking lot and sets you into the back seat. You have to shoo him away before he tries to buckle you in but luckily, he concedes.

Rather than getting into the passenger's seat, Blue vaults the length of the car and pops into the spot behind the driver's seat, directly next to you. You startle and the motion sends sharp pains up your skull, but at least Blue has the decency to look ashamed as he buckles himself in. Papyrus slides into the front seat and, after adjusting the seat and steering wheel, pulls the car out to head home.

The drive is quiet once Blue has had his fill of asking questions, though he keeps taking your hand and pushing his glowing green magic into it. It's sweet, but at this point it's not doing much besides making you drowsy.

By the time the three of you reach the chalet, you're passed out in the back. Papyrus and Blue share a look of mutual agreement before Blue carefully unbuckles then lifts your body out of the car while Papyrus quickly heads inside. When Blue reaches the living room, Papyrus has just finished hastily setting up the pullout couch. He nods to Blue, who sets you down before returning to his morning routine.

Perched on the armrest, Papyrus pulls out his phone and settles in for a few hours of keeping watch. 


End file.
